


Displaced

by DetectiveSebCas



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Animal Death, Assisted Suicide, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Sex, Euthanasia, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Eye Trauma (referenced), Grief/Mourning, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma (referenced), Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Surgery, child death (referenced)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 161,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveSebCas/pseuds/DetectiveSebCas
Summary: Sebastian Castellanos may have survived Beacon, but he can’t escape the trauma that follows his experience in STEM and the destruction of his family.  When he pulls into a wayside off a deserted highway, it is with the darkest of purposes.  However, before Sebastian can follow through with his plan, he is interrupted by an enigmatic stranger, and the two of them soon find themselves in a struggle for their lives and their sanity that rivals anything that happened in STEM.[SteSeb psychological horror/adventure story with slow burn romance.  AU that takes place during the same timeframe as the second game.  Technically a crossover, as this story is set in Silent Hill, but it does not feature any characters or lore from that series beyond the concept of the town itself.  Includes canon-typical violence, disturbing themes, and explicit sexual content.  POV alternates between Seb and Stefano.]
Relationships: Sebastian Castellanos/Stefano Valentini
Comments: 216
Kudos: 220





	1. The End of the Line

The highway stretches out ahead of him, long and dark and empty. This far from civilization there aren’t even any streetlights, and Sebastian has to turn the brights on so that he doesn’t miss a turn and wrap his shitty rental car around a tree.

Of course, he only paid the rental company for a week, and it’s been three. He’s sure they’ve placed all kinds of charges and holds on his credit card, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore, and it’s getting harder and harder to remember a time when anything did matter.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette and rolls down the window to shake off the excess ash. The chilly air hits him right in the face, but he barely feels it. He’s wrapped in a cocoon of nicotine and whiskey and despair so thick nothing can touch him.

Or at least nothing from the outside can touch him. There is still the deep, gnawing emptiness, the ache in his center of his chest. It’s been there so long it’s become part of him. He can’t drink it away- God knows, he’s tried- and most of the time he doesn’t want to. He did this to himself. It’s exactly what he deserves, and it’s no use pretending otherwise. But sometimes he just wants the pain to stop, and between Lily and Myra and everything that happened at Beacon, there’s a lot of pain.

He tried to keep it together after Beacon, tried to go on about his life with some semblance of normalcy, but that lasted about a month. He can’t go back to a time before all this happened, can’t unsee the horrors, can’t be whole again. He was already on a downhill slide, and the last few weeks of drifting from town to town haven’t done anything to help matters. He’s wandered into bars, truckstops, and strangers’ beds. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for anymore, but he definitely hasn’t found it.

He takes another drag. Myra would scold him for smoking, would say that he’s killing himself, but Myra’s not here so she doesn’t get a say in any of this. Just for a moment, he takes a sort of perverse pleasure in doing something he knows she would hate before the feeling passes and the emptiness returns. He is profoundly, utterly alone. It’s been eating away at him all this time, leaving a vast hollow place inside of him. It could give way at any moment and swallow him up, and maybe, just maybe, the world would be a little bit better for it.

The thought settles in his mind along with a plan of action, one that’s been there for a long time in the background. He doesn’t even need to think to execute it. He pulls into the wayside parking lot on autopilot, passing a faded highway sign without reading it, puts the car into park, and turns off the ignition.

The door is open, and his feet are on the pavement, carrying him to the railing of what must be some kind of scenic overlook. It’s the kind of place Myra would have made him stop so she could take a picture if they were traveling together. Myra, who isn’t here…Myra, who will never be here again...

It hurts to live without her, like living without a part of himself- the same way it hurts to be without Lily or Joseph. Not for the first time, Sebastian wonders just how much one man can suffer, how much pain he can take before it’s too much. But of course now he has his answer.

He raises the cigarette to his mouth with his left hand, takes one more drag, then flicks it over the edge. His right hand is in motion too, but the movement is so natural, so well-rehearsed that he doesn’t have to think about it.

The night air is cold on his face and his heart is cold inside his chest, and the barrel of his service revolver is cold against his temple. His thumb cocks the hammer back and then-

_ Click. _

For one second, one crazy, delusional second, he thinks he’s pulled the trigger on an empty chamber, but he’s not playing Russian roulette. The revolver is fully loaded- he’s sure of that- and in the time it takes his liquor-addled brain to process this fact, he realizes that the sound came from behind him and that it was accompanied by a bright flash of light.

None of this adds up, and Sebastian briefly considers that maybe he actually did pull the trigger and now he’s experiencing some sort of end of life vision, but his heart is still just as cold as before, and god damn it he’s still alive. For some reason, that’s a hundred times more offensive than whatever interrupted him, but it figures that he can’t even commit suicide properly.

He lowers the gun and turns around to see a man standing a few paces behind him. He is well-dressed in a tailored black suit and white dress shirt, but what really gets Sebastian’s attention is the camera held in his black-gloved hands. The man is just lowering it from his face, and he looks almost as surprised as Sebastian feels- or at least, the half of his face that Sebastian can see bears an expression of surprise. The other half is covered by his dark hair, which flops down over his right eye and cheek in one of the most impractical hairstyles Sebastian has ever seen. For a second, they simply stare at each other.

“Well don’t let me stop you,” the man says. He is holding the camera at mid-chest level now. “Carry on.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sebastian splutters. His words are a little slurred, but the rage burns hot inside him, driving out the chill in the air. He frowns, struggles to process the nerve of this man who is intruding on what should be one of the most private moments of his life, what should have been the end of his life.

He remembers the gun in his hand and raises his arm, pointing the barrel at this arrogant, brazen stranger. “What are you doing here?” he snarls. “Why can’t you just leave me in peace?”

The man raises both hands into the air, the camera still held in one of them. “Easy there,” he says. “I am not here to stop you. Only to observe and document.” He nods at the camera.

Sebastian can now detect the man’s accent- Italian if he’s not mistaken- though he still can’t make any sense of why this guy would want to “document” his suicide. It doesn’t matter though. Sebastian’s heart is still pounding in his ears, but the impulse to end his life has passed.

“Well there’s not gonna be anything to document,” he shoots back, “so get the hell out of here.” He puts the revolver back in its holster in a practiced motion and turns back to the car. It doesn’t matter who this weirdo is or what he wants. The only thing this place was supposed to afford Sebastian was a little peace, but even that’s been shattered.

“I would very much like to do that,” the man replies. “In fact, I have been trying to leave for quite some time.”

“Well, try harder,” Sebastian growls, turning his back on the stranger as he heads for his car. What this man does is no concern of his, and he sure as hell doesn’t want any company on this trip.

To his credit, the man is silent as Sebastian gets into the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. Nothing happens. The engine is silent, none of the electrical components come on, absolutely nothing.

“What the hell?” Sebastian mutters. He turns the key back and forth several times, but each one is as useless as the first. He racks his brain to figure out what kind of car problem would cause this result. He’s no mechanic, but surely turning the key on a dead battery would result in some of the dash lights coming on at least.

“God fucking damn it,” he swears under his breath as he pulls the hood release and gets out of the car, circling in front of it to lift the hood. All the usual car parts are under there in a configuration that looks okay to him. He’s not even sure why he’s doing it. This isn’t his area of expertise at all, so unless it’s something really obvious, he’s not going to be able to recognize anything out of the ordinary.

He pulls out his flashlight to supplement the streetlights and is considering the fluid levels when he realizes he’s not alone.

“There is nothing wrong with your car,” the man says from beside him.

“What the fuck do you even know about cars?” Sebastian snaps, exasperated. He turns on the man, shining the flashlight in his face. The man squints in the harsh light, but doesn’t back down.

“Very little,” the stranger replies, “but mine was just serviced last week, and now look at it.”

He jerks his head to one side, and Sebastian follows his gaze to the sleek, black Jaguar parked at the other end of the wayside parking lot. There isn’t anything overtly wrong with it.

“Where are your keys?” Sebastian asks.

The stranger reaches into his pocket and withdraws a car key, handing it to Sebastian without a word. Sebastian takes it, puts his flashlight away, and approaches the Jaguar, pushing aside the nagging thought that he’s sure he didn’t see this man or this car when he pulled into the parking lot. He was preoccupied- that has to be it- because if he was paying attention he would remember them.

He unlocks the car and reaches in to put the key in the ignition. Turning it yields exactly the same result as in his car, which is precisely nothing. He tries a few more times before he takes the key out, steps back, and closes the door. The stranger is leaning up against the railing of the overlook now, peering down at his camera in the dim light. He looks up as Sebastian approaches.

“You see what I mean,” he says, taking back the key Sebastian offers him.

“Yeah, what the fuck is going on here?” Sebastian asks. There is still frustration in his voice, but it is quickly being replaced with genuine confusion and dismay at the fact that they now seem to be stranded in a remote area with no means of transportation. Worst of all, the comforting buzz of the alcohol is leaving him as the reality of the situation thrusts him forcibly back into sobriety.

“That’s not even the worst of it,” the stranger says. “Check your cell phone.”

Sebastian reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. The screen is blank, and no amount of button-pressing will change that. It’s completely dead, and Sebastian can’t even really bring himself to be surprised, because apparently his luck is just this fucking bad tonight. So much for calling for a tow truck.

He shoves the phone back into his pocket. “Well fuck me,” he growls. He pulls out his cigarettes and lighter, because at least these had damn well better still work.

“Fuck us both,” the stranger agrees, tucking his camera away in his jacket pocket.

Sebastian takes out a cigarette, placing it between his lips before offering one to the stranger, who takes it with a murmured thank you. Sebastian flicks the lighter, which thankfully does still produce a flame, and holds it between them as both lean in to light up.

He takes a long drag, then exhales before asking, “So who are you?”

“Stefano Valentini,” the man answers, his Italian accent even more pronounced as he speaks his name. He offers Sebastian his hand in a gesture that is oddly formal for someone who almost watched him blow his brains out.

Sebastian takes it, the leather glove smooth and cool against his palm. Stefano’s handshake is firm but not overbearing. “Sebastian,” he says. “Sebastian Castellanos.”

Stefano nods and releases his hand, bringing his cigarette to his lips again. He inhales slowly, as though he is savoring the smoke in his lungs. Sebastian knows exactly how that feels. He is drawing what little comfort he can from his own cigarette when he is struck by an even more pressing question.

“Where the hell are we?”

Stefano laughs, but it is a cold, hollow sound. One black-gloved hand points to the highway sign he passed on the way in, and now Sebastian takes the time to actually read it. The green background is faded, but the white lettering is still legible.

_ Welcome to Silent Hill _

The name of the town stirs something in the back of his mind like a half-remembered dream, but he pushes that aside and turns back to Stefano.

“So what about you?” Sebastian asks. “What are you doing here?”

Stefano shrugs. “That is not important. I am much more concerned with my inability to leave.”

Stefano’s reason for being here seems kind of important to Sebastian. Actually it seems much more important now that he knows Stefano doesn’t want to talk about it. “Did you come out here to kill yourself?”

That gets a half-smile out of Stefano. “No,” he says. “Nothing like that.”

His apparent amusement with this idea jogs Sebastian’s memory. “And what the hell was that earlier?” he asks. The words may be a little harsh, but there is no venom in his tone. He’s too exhausted for that. “Why were you trying to take my picture?”

“I am a photographer,” Stefano replies, as though this should explain everything. “Taking pictures is in my blood.”

“Sure,” Sebastian says, “but the normal human thing to do would have been to try and stop me.” He’s not sure why this bothers him. He would have been pretty fucking pissed off if Stefano had tried to stop him, and yet somehow it’s just as offensive to him that Stefano didn’t.

“It is not my place to interfere in events as they unfold,” Stefano explains. “I document what I see, preserve it, try to capture the beauty I see in a way that I can present to others.” He laughs bitterly. “Not that anyone else seems to see things the way I do.”

“Well I would hope not,” Sebastian says, because it sounds like the way Stefano sees things is kind of fucked up. “What was going to be so beautiful about me shooting myself in the head?”

Stefano takes another drag on his cigarette, then exhales as he says, “There is beauty in death.”

This time it’s Sebastian who laughs. “You’re fucking crazy, you know that?”

Stefano’s eye narrows. “I was not the one holding a gun to my head.”

“Hey,” Sebastian snaps, instantly on the defensive, “I’m not saying I’m the poster child for mental health, but I’m not crazy...at least not that kind of crazy.”

“Then perhaps you should spend more than a few minutes with me before you decide what kind of crazy I am.” Stefano looks away, voice cold.

“Fair enough,” Sebastian replies. Mental health is obviously a sensitive subject for Stefano, and this isn’t something he needs to pursue right now. Besides, he’s seen some much crazier people during his time on the police force.

“At any rate, how sane or otherwise we are matters very little,” Stefano observes. “We are both stuck here. Now, why do you suppose that is?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sebastian sighs. None of this makes sense- not the malfunctioning cars, not the strange Italian man who was casually interested in seeing him die, none of it. “How long have you been here?”

“I cannot be certain,” Stefano replies. “It is a strange place. The days run together. Time loops back on itself. Sometimes I feel as though I am dreaming.” He gestures vaguely in the air between them, then stops, seemingly fixated on the cigarette between his fingers. For a moment, Sebastian wonders if maybe he is under the influence of something stronger than nicotine.

“But there are other people in town, right?” he prompts, trying to get Stefano back on track. “Couldn’t any of them help you with the car?”

Stefano shakes his head. “You are the first person I have seen.” He inclines his head toward Sebastian. “I must admit, it is a bit of a relief not to be alone anymore.”

“I’m not very good company,” Sebastian warns him, stalling for time. It’s a tiny thing, but the way Stefano looks at him, the way Stefano talks about not being alone anymore is making his heart accelerate, causing the sweat to collect at the small of his back even in the cool air.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Stefano says.

“And I’m not sticking around,” Sebastian adds. “As soon as I finish this cigarette, I’m going to walk into town. There’s got to be someone there who can help, or at least a working phone.”

“I hope you are right,” Stefano says mildly, “but I did not find that to be the case.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks. Some of the irritation comes through in his voice this time, because Stefano’s cryptic statements may be okay when talking about art and photography, but they’re no help when it comes to practical matters like getting the hell out of here.

“This town,” Stefano begins. “There’s something...wrong with it.”

“That really doesn’t tell me anything,” Sebastian says.

“It is difficult to explain,” Stefano replies, “but if you go there, I am sure you will see what I mean.”

“If you’ve been here so long, why don’t you just start walking down the road?” Sebastian asks. It’s probably twenty or thirty miles back to the next town, but Stefano looks like he’s in decent shape, and if he’s so desperate to leave it seems like the obvious answer.

“Of course I have tried that,” Stefano says, now sounding a little exasperated. “Would you like to see what happens when I do?”

“Sure,” Sebastian says. He has nothing better to do, though he doesn’t see how Stefano is going to make his point in a way that doesn’t involve several miles of walking down a dark highway.

“Come with me,” Stefano beckons, and Sebastian follows as he leads the way to the edge of the wayside parking lot. The streetlights don’t reach here, and Stefano pauses. “May I borrow your flashlight?”

Sebastian silently hands it over, though he isn’t sure where exactly Stefano is going with this. It’s not a full moon, but there’s enough light to see where the road is. Stefano turns the flashlight on and sets off down the road in the direction from which Sebastian came. Sebastian is easily keeping pace behind him, when Stefano stops so suddenly that Sebastian almost runs into his back.

“What the-?” Sebastian begins, but the beam of the flashlight answers that question and raises a whole bunch of new ones.

A jagged chasm yawns open just ahead of them. Sebastian steps up to the edge and stares at it in disbelief. He can see across to the other side, but it’s so deep he can’t see the bottom, and it runs left to right as far as he can see with no way around it. He’s starting to wonder if this is some side effect of alcohol and stress and a near-death experience, because there is absolutely nothing that could explain what he’s seeing.

Or almost nothing. A memory stirs somewhere in his mind- a memory of a city he knows turned on its head, broken, shifted as though in an earthquake. He has seen something like this before, but it can’t be that. The idea makes him sick to his stomach.

“How is this even possible?” he says to no one before he turns to Stefano. “I just came from there! I drove down this road!” He gestures at the chasm and the road beyond. “I...I don’t understand.”

Stefano nods solemnly. “Nor do I,” he says. “But at least now you see what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” Sebastian replies. “I just…” He moves one foot up to the edge of the chasm, because maybe this is just some kind of optical illusion. There has to be pavement there. He just drove over it. But he can feel the edge with his foot and there is nothing under the toe of his boot, and he draws back because he doesn’t even want to think about what it would be like to fall down there.

“I guess there’s only one way to go then,” Sebastian says turning on his heel and heading back toward the wayside and the welcome sign.

“Indeed,” Stefano replies, following behind him with the flashlight.

“Should we wait until it’s lighter?” Sebastian asks. He feels a little foolish for asking it. He’s not afraid of the dark per se, but clearly something weird is going on here, and he doesn’t want to make a misstep and go plummeting down one of these holes.

“If you like,” Stefano says mildly. “Though in my admittedly limited experience, the day and night cycle here can be a bit inconsistent.”

“Of course it can,” Sebastian mutters in dismay. He suddenly feels the need to sit down. Because once again, he’s experienced something like this before. But this isn’t STEM. This can’t be STEM. He escaped STEM, destroyed STEM.

He sinks down onto a bench underneath one of the streetlights and scrubs at his face with his hands. There has to be an explanation for this. It’s a bad dream, a hallucination brought on by the alcohol and the depression and who knows what other mental health issues are lurking in the background of his psyche. That shrink the department hired sure seemed to find plenty of them.

Things will seem different in the light of day- he’s sure of that- but there are some things about this situation that aren’t going to change, namely the fact that his cell phone is dead and his car won’t start. He can’t stay here at the wayside forever, and the sooner he starts moving, the sooner he’ll get to town and the sooner he’ll be able to get someone here to take a look at the car, and then all of this will be nothing but a distant memory of a weird night on the road.

He has resolved to do just that when he opens his eyes and sees Stefano sitting next to him, taking one last drag on his cigarette before he stubs it out on the bench and tosses it to the pavement.

“You seem awfully nonchalant about all this,” Sebastian says, gesturing at the parking lot around them. “If what you’re saying is true, why aren’t you more upset about it?”

“I was at first,” Stefano says, “but it is quite astounding what one can endure when one has no other choice.” He inclines his head toward Sebastian, and under the streetlight Sebastian can’t help but take note, once again, of Stefano’s ridiculous hairstyle.

“What the hell’s going on with your hair?” Sebastian asks, eager for a conversation topic that’s not as heavy as the limits of human endurance. Also, it’s a wonder Stefano hasn’t fallen down into one of these pits if his hair is always in his face like this.

“Why?” Stefano looks genuinely alarmed for a moment. He raises a hand to touch the hair that covers the right side of his face. “What is it doing?”

Sebastian has to laugh. He could have guessed from looking at Stefano and his car that he might be a little vain, but his reaction is still amusing. “Nothing,” he says. “I just meant why is it in your face like that?”

Stefano’s face shifts from alarmed to an expression Sebastian would describe as ‘mortally offended’. “I’ll have you know that this-” He gestures to his hairstyle, “- is avante garde. Though I wouldn’t expect you-” He waves a hand in Sebastian’s general direction, “- to be able to appreciate it!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sebastian asks, looking down at himself. Unfortunately that pretty much answers his question, because his shirt is rumpled and his pants are stained with dirt and what he’s pretty sure is blood from a bar fight. He looks back up at Stefano, whose expression is now rather smug.

“Simply that you are in no position to disparage anyone’s appearance,” Stefano replies.

“Fine,” Sebastian snaps. “Just don’t blame me when you fall down a hole or something.” He takes one last drag on his cigarette before he stubs it out and tosses the butt. “Now, if what you’re saying is true, then we’d better get going.” He stands up and starts back toward the main road.

“The road is collapsed that way as well,” Stefano calls after him.

“Then how are we supposed to get into town?”

“There’s a trail from the overlook,” Stefano says.

“Oh, that’s fucking great,” Sebastian remarks, throwing up his hands. “Just when it couldn’t get any better, we’re going into the woods at night.”

“I think you’ll like the woods better than the town,” Stefano says, smiling darkly.

“Only one way to find out,” Sebastian says. He nods at the flashlight, which is still in Stefano’s hand. “Lead the way.”

The highway stretches out behind him, long and dark and as empty as he is. He gives it one last glance over his shoulder as he follows Stefano into the darkness.


	2. Blue Hour

Sebastian is quiet as they walk along the wooded trail- so quiet, in fact, that Stefano has to concentrate to hear the footsteps behind him. He’s afraid to turn around, afraid to look and see if Sebastian is still there, because of what it will mean if Sebastian isn’t.

Stefano has lost all sense of time, but he has been here long enough to know that this is a place of deception, of illusion. He doesn’t know why this is happening to him, and he doesn’t know who is responsible, but up to this point he has braved it alone. Now he has a chance at some companionship, and he dreads to find out that this is just one more cruel trick. Like Orpheus, he cannot look back, though he and Sebastian are walking into hell, not out of it.

‘Companionship’ might be a bit of a strong word when it comes to Sebastian, who looks like he may have been living in his car for several days and smells like closing time at a particularly seedy bar, but Stefano can’t afford to be picky. Being alone inside his own head is infinitely worse than conversing with someone, even someone as decidedly rough around the edges as Sebastian. And he always did prefer a man with a bit of a rugged streak…

He puts those thoughts aside, because they are not going to matter in the short term, and very likely not in the long term either. Of course, one must wonder if Sebastian has any long term plans at all since Stefano found him holding a gun to his head.

The euphoric feeling he had in that moment comes rushing back, and he shivers with something besides the chill in the air. Watching the way Sebastian stood, the barrel of the revolver pressed against his temple, the way his muscles twitched as he took the slack out of the trigger, knowing that it would only take one more tiny movement, before-

But alas, he misjudged the timing. It’s quite disappointing, because he has become very good at reading people, but in Sebastian’s case, he expected the trigger pull to come at the moment he snapped the photo. When Sebastian lowered the gun and turned around, Stefano’s first thought was that he’d ruined everything, that he’d ruined what would have otherwise been a beautiful shot. Not that he’s able to develop any of his film at the moment, but still, the thought of Sebastian’s brain splattering on the pavement is...not as satisfying as it was twenty minutes ago.

Stefano frowns, but it’s no use. That moment is gone, and he will never get it back. Perhaps something useful will come out of his loss though. Sebastian does have a gun and a flashlight. Better equipment won’t solve all of their problems, but it’s a start.

“How much farther?” Sebastian asks from behind him, at once interrupting his train of thought and sending a warm rush of relief through his body at the confirmation that Sebastian is still behind him...or that whatever is behind him is at least courteous enough to speak with Sebastian’s voice.

“Not very far now,” he replies without turning around. “And it looks like the sun is going to come up.”

There is a faint gray light off to one side of them at what Stefano estimates must be the horizon. It doesn’t look like any sunrise he’s ever seen anywhere else, but it should at least allow them to see where they are going. Stefano isn’t sure whether that will be to their advantage or not. There is quite a lot he wishes he hadn’t seen here already.

“Where are you from?” Sebastian asks, in what is apparently a long overdue attempt to make civil conversation.

“Florence,” he replies, eye still trained on the path in front of him in case the earth decides to open up and swallow them whole. “And yourself?”

“Krimson City,” Sebastian says gruffly, and Stefano is momentarily glad that Sebastian can’t see his face, because Sebastian’s words take him by surprise. Stefano himself lived in Krimson City until quite recently. It’s probably no more than a coincidence, but it is still...odd, particularly because Krimson City is at least a full day’s drive from here. Stefano is beginning to suspect that there are no coincidences in this place.

“You are quite far from home then,” he observes.

“You’re one to talk,” Sebastian replies.

Stefano stiffens, because he knows Sebastian’s next question is going to be about what brings him to this town or even to this country, and he’s not feeling up to answering any more questions about his past. He is fighting not to show it, but his time in this town has left him drained, stretched too thin, clinging to the last shreds of...he’s not even sure of what. Reality? His sanity? Either way, it won’t take much for those threads to break.

Fortunately Sebastian chooses this moment to remain silent, and Stefano breathes a sigh of relief. Maybe Sebastian does have some potential as a companion after all.

The sun continues to rise, but it does little to improve visibility, because the woods around them and the path ahead are draped in a thick fog. He has seen the fog before. In fact, it seems to be a rare occasion when the town isn’t shrouded in it. It is thick enough to dampen his clothes, to send a chill down his spine, but he has grown accustomed to it.

It is so foggy, in fact, that it takes Stefano by surprise when the forest trail ends and there is asphalt under his feet again. He can see the vague outlines of buildings now, and he wonders for a moment if this is a street he has been on before, if this is the street that he came from the last time he headed for the overlook.

It doesn’t really matter though. He highly doubts the town will be kind enough to gift him with the comfort of anything familiar. And he’s not sure he would want it to. In this place, every gift comes with a price.

Sebastian mutters something under his breath that might be, ‘fucking finally,’ and quickens his step, passing by Stefano and heading for the nearest building. Stefano’s first reaction is mild amusement. He tried enough doors himself when he first arrived to know how fruitless this endeavor is going to be. Sebastian can go to every building on the street if he wants to, but he’s not going to find any help.

When Sebastian gets far enough ahead that his outline becomes as blurred as the buildings, Stefano’s smile fades, driven away by the stab of panic in his chest. Sebastian may not be the best conversationalist, but he’s the only thing Stefano has met in this place that even faintly resembles a human being, and Stefano isn’t ready to give that up yet. He walks a little faster, just enough to keep Sebastian’s shape firmly in sight, and follows as Sebastian approaches the first building, which appears to be some sort of retail establishment.

Sebastian seizes the door handle and gives it a good yank. When the door doesn’t budge, Sebastian tries again. Stefano briefly considers pointing out that even if this was a normal town with normal shops, most of them wouldn’t be open so soon after sunrise, but he doubts Sebastian will listen to reason, and neither will the town.

“Hello?” calls Sebastian, banging on the glass door with his fist. Predictably this doesn’t yield any results either, and after several attempts, Sebastian says something rather rude under his breath and moves on to the next building. The look on his face as he brushes by Stefano is somewhere between furious and manic, and Stefano doesn’t dare to interrupt him.

They make their way from one building to another, and the racket Sebastian is making would surely have gained the attention of the local inhabitants if there were any. Stefano follows behind him silently until his fourth or fifth attempt, after which Sebastian turns his back to the doors and slides down them until he is seated on the steps of the Silent Hill Bank & Trust with his head in his hands.

Stefano briefly considers reminding Sebastian that he tried to explain this to him back at the overlook parking lot, but Sebastian looks so dispirited at the moment that Stefano can’t quite bring himself to do that. Instead he observes from a safe distance.

“Fuck…” Sebastian groans before tossing his head back. It hits the glass door behind him with a clunk, and Sebastian swears again and jerks his head forward, then seems to think better of it and lets it fall back against the glass over and over again. _Clunk...clunk...clunk…_

“Come now,” Stefano says, because the sound is starting to get on his nerves. “That is not going to help anyone.”

“Maybe not,” Sebastian says, “but it’s making me feel better.”

Stefano fights back the little smile that tugs on his mouth. “I cannot imagine how.” He leans down and grasps Sebastian’s upper arm, pulling on it to urge him to his feet. “And you are going to need your wits about you to survive here.”

It is now occurring to Stefano that someone who is acutely suicidal, as Sebastian seems to be, might not be the best partner in this situation. Stefano is quite concerned with his own survival, while Sebastian already seems to be headed down a path of self-destruction. If Sebastian is going to actively bring about his own demise, there may not be much either one of them can do for the other.

There must still be something of Sebastian left though, because he staggers to his feet, rubbing at his face with his hands. “It’s too early,” he says when he lowers them, as though he’s had a revelation. “That’s why the businesses aren’t open. We just need to find a residential area.”

“I do not think-,” Stefano begins, but Sebastian is already off, and Stefano has to jog to keep him in sight through the dense fog, which is a shame, because Stefano despises running. He has managed to avoid it almost entirely in recent years, not because he dislikes exercise, but because it is undignified. It suggests an impulsivity and lack of planning that Stefano would never tolerate in himself, but it seems to suit Sebastian just fine.

Stefano follows and watches and waits as Sebastian heads down a side street and locates some houses. He bangs on doors and windows and shouts to no avail, and when he is finished he looks even more downtrodden than before. Stefano can’t say that he understands what Sebastian is feeling, but he has learned to read facial expressions and body language quite well, and Sebastian’s sagging shoulders and the tight line of his mouth don’t mean anything good.

“There’s no one here,” Sebastian says flatly. “How is that even possible?”

Sebastian isn’t quite right. Before he came, there really was no one here- only Stefano himself and his memories, his ghosts. This is actually a dramatic improvement in his situation.

Stefano inclines his head toward Sebastian. “I think you will find,” he begins, “that what is possible is interpreted rather loosely in this place.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” Sebastian asks.

“I have been asking myself the same question,” Stefano replies. “And I have yet to find an answer.”

“Well what have you been doing?” Sebastian presses. “Since you got here I mean?”

“Wandering,” Stefano answers. It’s not a lie, but it’s certainly not the whole truth.

Sebastian laughs bitterly. “Story of my life,” he says, “at least these past few weeks.”

He plops down onto the steps of the house they are standing in front of, and Stefano takes a seat beside him.

“Will anyone come looking for you?” Stefano asks. He knows so little about Sebastian, but if he has a family or friends who are expecting him to return, perhaps those people will come here as well. Stefano isn’t sure what that would accomplish, but it would at least be something.

Sebastian shakes his head, opens his mouth as though he is going to speak, and then closes it again.

Stefano nods. He wants to ask for more details, because the wedding ring Sebastian wears raises some questions about why no one is looking for him, but he can tell this isn’t the right time to start down that road.

Sebastian clears his throat. “What about you?” he asks.

“No,” Stefano replies. No one is coming to look for him.

“Guess we’re both equally fucked then,” Sebastian says, sighing deeply and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Stefano has to admit that Sebastian is taking this whole situation awfully well- a little too well, in fact- though perhaps that has something to do with the state he was in when Stefano found him. A man who was seconds away from putting a bullet in his head may be ready for a change, even one for the worse. And this one is definitely for the worse.

As if on cue, he hears a shuffling noise coming from farther down the street, like something heavy is being dragged along the pavement. Sebastian must hear it too, because he stands up quickly and orients toward the noise.

“Hello?” Sebastian calls out, and maybe Sebastian is stupid enough to think that this could be a friend, but Stefano knows better. He jumps to his feet as well, waves his arm frantically at Sebastian, and places a finger to his lips.

Sebastian frowns, then mutters, “I don’t care who it is. I’d be happy to see anyone at this point.”

Stefano’s heart is beating faster now. The sound is getting louder, undoubtedly signalling the approach of whatever this is. His skin has gone cold and clammy all over, his tongue is frozen in his mouth, and he can only shake his head vigorously at Sebastian.

Sebastian shrugs, muttering under his breath as he turns back toward the source of the noise. Stefano turns with him, and now he can see a figure taking shape through the fog.

‘Vaguely human’ is the best that Stefano can say about this...thing. It is about the height of a man, and seems to have a sort of head and a torso and two legs, though as it moves closer, Stefano can see that the skin all over its body is weathered, leathery. The face is a featureless expanse of skin, and the knee joints bend the wrong way. It is by far not the worst thing he has seen here, but it fills him with a sense of dread nonetheless.

Sebastian peers down the street at it for several seconds before he apparently gets a good enough look to realize something isn’t right. He startles, jumping back almost into Stefano.

“What the fuck is that?” he says in a loud whisper, not taking his eyes off the creature. “What the fuck is that?” he asks again before Stefano has even had a chance to answer.

“How on earth would I know?” Stefano hisses back, a little indignant that Sebastian seems to think he might be acquainted with this monster.

His eye snaps back to the creature as it continues to advance. He doesn’t like the way this thing moves, the way its legs bend, the way its body is bent backwards as though under a great weight, and as it draws even closer, he realizes why that is. There is another part to its body that it is dragging on the ground behind it, and this part is substantial, large enough that its steps are rough and jerky, and its torso bends and strains with the effort.

“Should we…?” Sebastian’s voice trails off, but he’s pointing down the road in the opposite direction from the monster and his meaning is clear.

“Yes,” Stefano replies immediately, grateful that Sebastian finally seems to recognize the threat, and they both turn and take off running back toward the business district.

It’s not a full sprint, because the creature wasn’t advancing on them very fast, but when Stefano glances over his shoulder, he can see that they are putting some distance between themselves and the monster. They’ve only made it two blocks when Sebastian stops abruptly and throws out an arm, which catches Stefano across the chest. Stefano is about to protest when Sebastian points to the street ahead of them, where there is another creature, very much like the first one, shuffling around in the fog. This one doesn’t seem to have the same sense of purpose as the first one. It moves without direction, as though it isn’t aware of them, and Stefano doesn’t necessarily want that to change. 

Sebastian jerks his head toward an alley off to their right, and Stefano nods. Silently, they move in that direction, ducking between two buildings and moving down the alleyway until the passage ends at a brick wall.

“Shit,” Sebastian mutters. “It’s a dead end.”

Stefano is about to tell him that he doesn’t need to state the obvious when the shuffling noise breaks into his consciousness again. It’s coming from behind them, and he whirls around to see that the creature is now actually in the alleyway with them, slowly closing the distance.

Beside him, Sebastian draws his gun and takes aim, but Stefano, who has not had the benefit of a firearm for most of his time here, is already looking for alternatives. His eye scans both sides of the alley. There are no doors at ground level, but there is a fire escape on one of the buildings. He wouldn’t be able to reach it by himself, but maybe if he got a boost…

“Sebastian,” he says, pointing to the fire escape.

Sebastian glances over at him. “No need,” he says. “I can take it out.”

“Perhaps,” Stefano concedes, his eye still darting back and forth between the monster, Sebastian, and the fire escape, “but what about the next one?” Sebastian’s weapon is a six-shot revolver, and even assuming it is fully loaded, that’s not very many rounds. Every shot needs to count, but this also isn’t the time for a lecture on conservation of resources.

Luckily, Sebastian only takes another second to consider before he gives a curt nod. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but hurry.”

Stefano thinks this bit of direction is rather unnecessary, since he is already dashing underneath the fire escape and placing a hand on the brick wall of the building for support. Sebastian is right behind him. He kneels down, interlacing his fingers so that Stefano can step into his hand, then launches himself to his feet, propelling Stefano up so suddenly that he has to make a wild grab for the metal structure to avoid losing his balance entirely.

A kind of disorganized climbing effort ensues, during which Stefano fears he may have kicked Sebastian in the shoulder or head, but he’s in too much of a panic to worry about that right now. He wriggles halfway onto the platform on his belly and pulls the release lever for the stairs, which slide down with a grating screech of rusty metal and a loud thump, which Stefano fervently hopes is the stairs hitting the ground and not some part of Sebastian.

Within seconds, Sebastian is scrambling up onto the platform with him, and they both reach down to grab the stairs and pull them back up into their original position. This creature doesn’t look like it’s capable of climbing, but Stefano isn’t taking any chances.

Once the stairs are secured, he rolls onto his back, breathing hard. Next to him, Sebastian is on his hands and knees doing the same.

“What the...what the hell is that thing?” Sebastian gasps, crawling to the edge of the platform to peer down at the creature, which Stefano can hear shuffling around below them.

It takes a few seconds before Stefano has enough breath in his lungs to reply. “I do not know,” he says finally, “but I have seen other things here… things like that.”

“Fuck,” groans Sebastian. “There are more of these?”

“Maybe not these exactly,” Stefano says. He sits up, holding the railing for support, and leans over to get a better look at the creature below them. It seems to be quite impaired by its own weight, moving slowly and stumbling on occasion. The appendage it drags behind it comprises roughly half of its body mass, and Stefano wonders what it is supposed to be for. He gets his answer when, in apparent frustration, the creature plants its feet and pivots in place with a loud grunt, causing the appendage to swing out and knock over a couple of nearby trash cans.

“Shit,” Sebastian mutters, “don’t want to get hit with that thing.”

Stefano nods in silent agreement, and they watch for a few more minutes as the thing shuffles around underneath them. Stefano has seen some odd-looking things in Silent Hill, but nothing quite like this. The posterior appendage in particular is strange. It’s fleshy like the rest of the creature’s body, but it’s not moveable like an animal’s tail. In fact, it seems to be pure dead weight. Stefano supposes he should be thankful that at least it slowed the creature down enough to allow them to escape, but it is strange to look at. There is also something familiar about it, though Stefano can’t quite put his finger on what it is.

At any rate, the monster doesn’t seem to be very interested in leaving the alley, so Stefano gets to his feet and begins to investigate their other options. There is no door or window to the fire escape on this floor, but there looks to be one above them, so he begins to climb the next set of stairs. The metal structure shakes and sways slightly underneath him, particularly when Sebastian begins to follow, and Stefano can only hope that it has enough structural integrity left to not tear away from the building completely. He’s not afraid of heights exactly, but he does take care not to look down as he steps onto the next platform.

He takes hold of the lower part of the window frame and yanks upward. He’s relieved when the window actually slides open, though he could have done without the screeching noise it makes, which has surely alerted every monster in the vicinity to their location.

“Whoa,” Sebastian says behind him. “That’s breaking and entering.”

The inhabitants of this place are long gone. Stefano is sure of that, and he’s happy to explain it to Sebastian once his feet are on solid ground, but at the moment his priority is getting off of the shaky fire escape platform, so he vaults through the window, landing on the linoleum floor of a long-abandoned kitchen.

“Stefano!” Sebastian hisses from outside the window. “Get out of there! What if someone’s home?”

Stefano briefly considers pointing out that if all of Sebastian’s yelling and pounding on doors earlier didn’t prompt any of the town’s inhabitants to show themselves, there is little chance that climbing through a window will prove any different. However, Sebastian seems to be stuck on the idea that there are people somewhere in this town, and rather than waste more time trying to dispel that notion, Stefano settles for something more obvious.

“Sebastian, look at this place,” he says. His voice comes out much calmer and more confident now that he is sure he isn’t about to be plunged back into the alley. He draws a gloved finger across one of the counters, through several millimeters of dirt and grease and god knows what else. “There is no one here. There has not been anyone here for quite some time.”

Sebastian’s eyes dart around the room, but he seems to be satisfied, because he climbs through the window as well, moving past Stefano to take in the state of the kitchen.

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding,” he says.

Stefano closes the window behind him and latches it, then turns around to find that Sebastian has made the dubious decision to open the refrigerator. He is immediately assaulted by one of the worst odors he has encountered in his entire life. The sickly sweet smell of rotting meat is overlaid with the putrid stench of decomposition. The air is thick in his lungs, and the flies are buzzing in his ears. He is standing at the edge of an open grave. The buzzing is getting louder, and he fears he will be pulled in along with the others… to join the tangle of bodies below him.

“Shit!” Sebastian exclaims before slamming the door closed. “What the hell is wrong with this thing?”

Stefano blinks, reorients himself. The smell is gone. The vision is gone, and he has to wonder if what Sebastian was smelling in the refrigerator is anything like what he was smelling himself, because ‘wrong’ does not begin to cover it. Of course, considering the way Sebastian has gone rigid, trembling slightly and staring straight ahead of him, it’s also possible that he’s not giving Stefano the whole story.

Sebastian gives his head a little shake, draws his gun, and stalks out of the kitchen. It isn’t until he turns a corner and is out of sight that Stefano is seized by panic again. Sebastian may not know the rules here, but Stefano is starting to get a grasp of what the town is capable of, and splitting up is dangerous. Even being out of sight for a few moments is dangerous.

He exits the kitchen and turns right, then right again, almost bumping into Sebastian as he comes out of a bathroom. Sebastian doesn’t say a word, but continues down the hall. He moves room to room, checking closets and under beds, always making right turns, and it takes Stefano just two rooms to realize that it’s a protective sweep. He’s seen the soldiers do them when clearing houses they encountered on patrol. It’s familiar, almost comforting in a way, and it gives him a little information about Sebastian.

He considers this as he follows behind him. Sebastian has at least a month’s growth of facial hair, and that plus his general scruffiness makes it unlikely that he’s currently in the military, but it’s certainly possible that he’s former military or law enforcement. Stefano isn’t entirely sure how he feels about that, but he doesn’t have much time for reflection, because they are back in the kitchen, and Sebastian is holstering his weapon and raising his right hand- the one on which the knuckles are crudely bandaged- to his face to scratch thoughtfully at his beard. He seems to come to some sort of decision and locks eyes with Stefano.

“I don’t know what the hell that was,” he says, gesturing at the window, “or what the hell is going on here, but it seems like you do. Is that fair to say?”

Stefano frowns, because it’s not as simple as Sebastian makes it sound. “I am not sure I would say that I know what is going on here,” he replies cautiously, “but I do know some things. I will tell you if you are ready to listen.”

“I am,” Sebastian says. “Tell me everything you know about Silent Hill.”

“It will take some time,” Stefano warns, because up to this point, Sebastian hasn’t displayed a tremendous amount of patience.

Sebastian nods solemnly. “I’ll make some coffee.”


	3. Ghosts

The coffee Sebastian finds in the cupboard is long expired, and the machine is just as dusty as everything else in the kitchen, but Sebastian doesn’t function without his morning coffee, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

He finds a dishrag in one of the drawers and uses it to wipe down the machine as best he can. When he turns on the water in the sink, it sputters at first but then runs clear, so it seems like at least the plumbing still works. He adds the coffee and water to the machine, plugs it in and starts it up, holding his breath until it beeps and whirs to life.

“Thank fuck for that,” he mutters, turning to Stefano. “Just when I was starting to think everything was going to go wrong.”

Stefano smiles, but it’s a weak, tired smile that tells Sebastian the promise of coffee isn’t enough to lift Stefano’s spirits in any substantial way. Sebastian can’t blame him though; he’s well aware that he isn’t exactly a ray of sunshine himself.

He finds a couple of mugs in the cupboard, rinses them, and wipes them off with the dishrag. If Stefano has any objection to his food preparation methods, he doesn’t offer it, which is probably for the best, because there doesn’t seem to be any soap or hot water available.

“I hope you don’t need milk,” he says by way of making conversation, “because I am sure as hell not opening that fridge again.” He shudders. The heavy, acrid odor that overwhelmed him when he opened the refrigerator was as disturbing as it was familiar. That smell is in his dreams every night… with the flames and with the screams.

“No,” Stefano replies quickly. “Black coffee is quite alright with me.” His face is taut, and it’s pretty clear to Sebastian that he doesn’t want him to open the fridge again either.

Sebastian has half a mind to ask Stefano what he thought about the odor emanating from that thing, but the very idea makes his stomach turn over. Besides, black coffee is his preference as well, second only to a stiff drink.

When the coffee has finished brewing, Sebastian pours it into two mugs, hands one to Stefano, and gestures to the living room. “Might as well sit down.”

The furniture is dusty, but otherwise well-maintained. He takes a seat on the couch, and Stefano drops into an armchair across from him. Even with the fog, there is enough light coming in through the windows that they can see each other, but Sebastian reaches over to switch on a lamp anyway. The warm light settles his nerves a little bit.

Stefano sips his coffee, then lowers the mug to rest it on his knee before he speaks. “I do not wish to mislead you, Sebastian. I certainly do not have all the answers, but I have been here long enough to learn a few things.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian says. “Anything you can tell me is more than I knew before.”

He’s aware that he may not have been terribly respectful when he first met Stefano. He may not have taken Stefano’s warnings seriously, but in his defense, that’s because some of them sounded pretty fucking crazy. Now he has sobered up, both literally and figuratively, and the encounter with whatever the hell that was down on the street has given him a new appreciation for… he’s not even sure what for, but he knows he’s not prepared to take it on alone. He still isn’t sure if he can trust Stefano, but he’s not going to turn away any source of information at this point.

He takes a sip of his coffee and waits for Stefano to continue. The coffee is strong and bitter. It’s satisfying but at the same time brings a lump to his throat for reasons he can’t quite explain. He swallows it down and turns his attention back to Stefano.

“I had stopped at the wayside, much like you did,” Stefano begins.

“What were you doing on the road in the first place?” Sebastian asks, remembering suddenly that Stefano point-blank refused to answer this question earlier.

“Not relevant,” Stefano replies curtly, “and this is going to take much longer than it has to if you insist on interrupting me.”

“Fine,” Sebastian says, though he can feel a muscle in his jaw twitching. He makes a conscious effort to relax his face and not to glare at Stefano, even though his cop instincts are telling him something is wrong here. Fortunately, his cop instincts also tell him that if he doesn’t get an answer to this question the first time, he can circle back around to it later.

“When I attempted to leave, I also found that my car was...indisposed,” Stefano continues, “and my phone was similarly uncooperative. Like yourself, I initially attributed both of these things to bad luck, and I walked into town to find someone to assist me. And that is when everything changed…”

Stefano has a far-away look in his eye as he sips his coffee again. He frowns. “I don’t suppose you can spare another cigarette?”

“Sure,” Sebastian says automatically, reaching into his pocket for the pack. He’s not actually sure that he can spare another, but if he’s learned anything from years of interviewing suspects, it’s that cigarettes keep people talking, and he doesn’t want Stefano to stop talking now. He hands Stefano the pack of cigarettes and his lighter, and Stefano takes one and lights up before handing them back to Sebastian.

There aren’t many left in the pack, but Sebastian isn’t about to watch Stefano smoke without having one himself, so he lights up as well, taking a moment to savor the taste of coffee and nicotine.

Stefano exhales a plume of smoke before he speaks again. “This town is alive, Sebastian.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, but Stefano waves a hand at him. “I am well aware of how strange that sounds, but there is no other way to explain it. The town is alive. It has its own design, its own agency, and in no time, it took control of me for its own purposes.”

Sebastian isn’t entirely sure whether Stefano is speaking literally or metaphorically, but he is willing to hear him out. Based on what he’s already seen, there is something very strange indeed going on here. “And what purposes are those?”

Stefano shakes his head. “That is the question. It does not have the decency to make its intentions clear. It does not ask for what it wants in so many words, but it has guided me down certain paths.”

Sebastian sips his coffee and waits for Stefano to continue, because he isn’t really sure what to say to that.

“I told you before that time is fluid here, but space is as well. For example…”

Stefano sets his mug down on the coffee table, stands, and goes to the doorway leading to one of the bedrooms. He gestures to the room beyond it, then closes the door. “It is entirely possible,” he says, “that if I open this door again, just now, it will lead somewhere else, perhaps even somewhere that has no connection to the room we are in at this moment.”

Sebastian gives an involuntary shudder, because this is starting to sound like STEM all over again. He remembers all too well how quickly and inexplicably he seemed to move through space- from Beacon to the streets of Krimson to a quaint farming village and back again. He can’t think of how he could possibly have ended up back in STEM, but then again, he didn’t realize he had ended up in STEM the first time either...not until it was too late.

The silence has been dragging on as he processes all of this, and Stefano heaves a sigh. “I know, I know. Surely you think I have lost my mind.”

“No,” Sebastian says quickly, because there is vulnerability in Stefano’s voice right now, a kind of cautious self-doubt. It strikes a chord with Sebastian, who is sure this must be exactly how he sounded when he was trying to explain STEM and Beacon to the department psychiatrist. “Not at all. Actually, I...uh...I think I understand what you mean.”

“Really?” Stefano says. What Sebastian hears in his voice this time is disbelief tinged with sarcasm. “I am not even sure that  _ I _ understand what I mean.”

Sebastian laughs. “No, I mean- I’m sure I don’t fully understand, but I’ve...encountered something like this before.”

“Have you?” Stefano returns to his seat, looking genuinely intrigued this time as he picks up his coffee mug. “Perhaps  _ you _ should be telling  _ me _ how this works then.”

“Well, I’m not sure if my experience will be any help,” Sebastian says, taking another drag on his cigarette. “It was a little different. It was something manufactured… a kind of a virtual world created by linking people’s brains together.”

Stefano’s face falls a little. “Unfortunately, this world is very real,” he says, “but it is very distorted.”

Sebastian doesn’t bother to caution him that STEM also seemed very real. Whether they’re in STEM or in some kind of haunted town, the objective is the same: survive. He turns this over in his mind for a minute before Stefano asks another question.

“Was it possible to die in your virtual world?”

Sebastian nods. “It was, and a lot of people did.” He pauses. “Or at least, I think they did.” It’s making his brain hurt just to try to remember the test subjects in their tubs, the Haunted, the echoes of people that populated the landscape of STEM. “It’s hard to tell how much of it was real, even now.”

This time Stefano nods. “That is very much the case here as well.” He sips his coffee. “How did you come to be involved in the other situation?”

“I wish I knew,” Sebastian replies with a shake of his head. “Wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. It was some sort of a science experiment gone wrong. Someone was running things, but I don’t think I was chosen specifically.” Even as he says it, he’s not so sure. Ruvik left so little to chance that it’s not outrageous to think that maybe there was some reason… but now he is getting even further off-topic.

“You said that the town guided you down a path,” Sebastian says in an attempt to bring the conversation back around to their current predicament. “What did you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said,” Stefano replies. “And quite literally at that. The layout of the streets will change, doors will be locked, or they will require a particular key. When the town intends for you to take a certain path, it will simply remove all other options.”

“Jesus,” Sebastian mutters, because if this isn’t STEM, it’s a mindfuck on par with anything STEM could dish out. “Did that start as soon as you got here?”

“Not right away,” Stefano says. “At first it was only small things. I was exploring the town as I looked for help, and things started to seem a bit off. Night fell sooner than I was expecting, a storm drove me inside a nearby building. Things that seemed innocent at first, but in hindsight it was already hard at work.”

At work doing what? Sebastian wonders. STEM had a Core, a central consciousness that drove everything in it, and Stefano did say that the town had an agency of its own. As crazy as it sounds, he has to ask. “What...what does it want?”

“That is the question,” Stefano says with a tired-looking smile, “and I wish I had an answer for you… and for myself. So far I have completed a number of small tasks, and I have been rewarded, but I fear I am no closer to knowing the larger plan.”

“Rewarded?”

“Yes,” Stefano says with a nod. “Food, medical supplies, that sort of thing.”

Sebastian nods as well. STEM also provided supplies at times, though he was never sure whether that was some twisted sense of fair play on Ruvik’s part or his own subconscious trying to help him out. Stefano’s answer also gives him something else to think about, because in STEM he never had to worry about food or sleep or medical care that was any more complicated than Ruvik’s mysterious syringes. If real-world concerns like those still apply here, they may have their work cut out for them even without the monsters.

And there are monsters here. There is really no other way to describe whatever it was he saw out there in the street. The way it moved, the way it dragged itself down the street toward them was terrifying on a visceral level, and once he got a good look at the thing, it was all he could do to consult Stefano before running his ass off. If that was one of the town’s creations, Sebastian has no desire to see what else it can dream up.

He already has a bad feeling about this. STEM had plenty of blood and guts and gore and other things that weren’t easy to look at, but Sebastian is a little desensitized to violence after years on the police force. No, what bothers him about this place is something else, something that has already started to work its way under his skin, into his brain.

He shakes his head as though that will clear the unwelcome thoughts. “And you haven’t met any other people?” he asks Stefano. “In the whole time you’ve been here?”

“No,” Stefano replies. “At least, not what I would call people.”

“You mean like that thing outside?”

Stefano nods. “I have seen quite a few things like that...or at least, similarly...strange…”

It sounds like Stefano has more to say, so Sebastian waits for a few seconds. When nothing is forthcoming, he prompts, “What else?”

Stefano goes very still, and his eye flicks up to meet Sebastian’s. “Ghosts.”

Sebastian would normally laugh at something like that, but there is a heaviness in the air, in Stefano’s tone, that doesn’t permit humor. “Ghosts?”

“Oh, yes,” Stefano replies, voice hushed now. “Or perhaps they are just figments of my imagination. It matters very little which it is. I cannot trust anything that I see or hear in this place.”

“Then how do you know I’m not one of them?” Sebastian asks. He is half-joking, trying to lighten the mood a little, but Stefano’s gaze on him is deadly serious.

“I don’t.”

“You’re spending an awful lot of time talking to someone who might not even be real,” Sebastian points out.

Stefano shrugs. “Talking to you is much more enjoyable than some of the other things I have done in my time here. Even if you are a ghost, you have been a pleasant distraction.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. “I don’t think I’m a ghost,” he offers. “Unless I was a lot more successful back at the overlook than I thought.”

There is a pause while both of them sip their coffee, then Stefano says, “What made you decide to do it?”

“None of your goddamn business,” grumbles Sebastian. The question grates on his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard, even though he knows his attempt at humor was at least partially responsible for this sudden change in topic. Now that the moment has passed, he isn’t even entirely sure why he did what he did. There are reasons of course- many reasons-, but that doesn’t explain why in that moment he actually put the gun to his head fully intending to pull the trigger.

“It is though,” Stefano insists, standing up and taking a step toward Sebastian. “Can you not see that? If we are going to be stuck here together, in a place that is actively trying to get inside our heads-”

“Then you worry about your head, and let me worry about mine!” snaps Sebastian, jumping to his feet to be on level with Stefano.

“That is not the way this works!” Stefano shoots back, his voice rising to match Sebastian’s.

“Oh, it’s not?” Sebastian is practically shouting now. “Because every single time I’ve asked you why you were out here, you’ve dodged the goddamn question, but you seem to be perfectly comfortable asking me the same thing!”

“Because you have a fucking gun!” Stefano yells, throwing his hands up in apparent frustration. “Because if you decide to something stupid, you could easily kill me as well!”

Sebastian is about to shout back. Stefano is being incredibly fucking aggravating, but he hesitates. His training tells him to wait, to reevaluate the situation, so he pauses and takes a hard look at Stefano. He is standing rigid, shoulders rising and falling with each breath and those breaths are coming hard and fast. His eye is wide, flicking from Sebastian’s face to his right hand and back again. The stress is visible in his face, in his posture, but it’s a stress brought on by fear, by exhaustion, not by anger.

Sebastian takes a deep breath, raising his hands in a pacifying gesture. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, I hear what you’re saying, and it sounds like what you really want is some reassurance that I’m not a danger to you. Is that right?”

Stefano nods wordlessly, and Sebastian nods back, because this is something he can do, something he is confident about. He takes his seat, and Stefano does as well, though he is still staring hard at Sebastian.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to help people and trying to protect people. I haven’t always been successful, but that’s what I do. That’s...that’s who I am.”

Stefano nods again. Sebastian can’t read his face, so he isn’t sure how much of this is getting through, but he continues anyway.

“What’s going on with me now is...well, it’s a lot of things, and they’re all very personal to me, and they’re not the kind of thing that I discuss with just anybody.” Actually, they’re not the kind of thing he discusses with anyone at all, but Stefano doesn’t need to know that. “But I promise you that I would never do anything to put someone else in danger.”

Stefano nods once more, shoulders dropping a little as he visibly relaxes.

“This is just between me and my thoughts,” Sebastian says. “ _ My _ ghosts…”

Stefano nods one more time, then takes a deep breath before he speaks. “My apologies. I suppose the time I have spent here has taken its toll.”

“It’s alright.” Sebastian replies. Based on the strength of Stefano’s reaction, he suspects there is more going on than just a few days in Silent Hill, but if Stefano is willing to leave his past alone for the time being, Sebastian will grant him the same courtesy.

They sit in silence for a few seconds before Sebastian sighs. No matter how much he wants to move on to another subject, Stefano has put this idea in his head, and now he has to face the fact that even he doesn’t know what he was doing back at the overlook. “I’m not even sure I really intended to follow through-”

“You did,” Stefano interrupts. He is calm now, composed to a degree that is almost eerie considering how emotional he was just seconds ago. “In that moment, you did. I have a sense about these things.”

Normally it would rub Sebastian the wrong way to have a stranger try to tell him what was going on inside his own head, but Stefano is right, and the heightened emotions of the past few minutes have sapped Sebastian’s strength. He doesn’t have the energy to argue with Stefano again right now. He drops his gaze down to the floor before he answers.

“I...uh...I guess a lot of things just sort of caught up with me all at once.”

Stefano doesn’t speak, and after a few seconds Sebastian raises his eyes to meet Stefano’s. Stefano gives a little nod before he speaks. “You have lost someone.”

Sebastian blinks for a few seconds. Again, Stefano is right, but Sebastian isn’t sure whether it’s a lucky guess or some strange trick of this place. Maybe Stefano is the one who isn’t real. “How did you know that?”

“You said earlier that no one would come looking for you, yet you are wearing a wedding band.” Stefano gestures to his left hand, and Sebastian glances at it to see that he is, of course, wearing his wedding band. He hasn’t had the heart to take it off. It stays on his finger the way that one stupid thought stays in his head- the thought that Myra might come back.

“Uh, yeah,” he fumbles, “I guess I am. My...my wife left after our little girl died.” He knows the standard reactions to this statement: shock, horror, pity. People don’t know how to respond to the death of a child. He glances down at the floor, then back up at Stefano. It may be his imagination, but Stefano’s expression looks a little softer than it was before.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Stefano says, “but I am not surprised.”

“Why not?”

“Surely you do not believe we ended up here by chance,” Stefano says. “Do you remember what you were thinking when you pulled into the wayside?”

“I wasn’t thinking exactly,” Sebastian replies as he casts back in his mind to that moment. “I was just...reacting to a kind of impulse.”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean,” Stefano says. “This town draws people in.”

“And how did it draw you in?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano pulls back a little, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“Hey,” Sebastian says, putting on his most soothing voice. “I’m not trying to pry into your personal life here. I’m just trying to understand what we’re up against.” He knows he is asking a lot of Stefano, but Stefano did make a very good point a few minutes ago. If this town is anything like STEM then this is a place where secrets hold real danger for both of them. 

Stefano seems slightly placated by his words, but his cigarette is shaking in his hand as he answers. “I received a letter.” He takes a drag and exhales a plume of smoke before he continues. “From someone I had lost. Or thought I had lost- I don’t know-” He waves his hand in the air in front of him, visibly agitated. “It doesn’t matter.” He sighs, seems to collect himself a bit. “I am here, and you are here, and we are simply going to have to make the best of it.”

Sebastian considers pressing Stefano for more information, particularly on whether the person he is talking about is alive or dead, which seems like a pretty important distinction to make, but the other man already looks like he is close to his limit, so he decides to back off the personal stuff for the moment and focus on more urgent matters, like their survival.

“So what’s our first move? Do we make a base or something?”

Stefano smiles faintly. “I tried that early on and did not find it to be very effective.”

“Why not?”

“The way space and time work here, one can never rely on being able to return to any given place. Leaving resources anywhere generally means that they cannot be recovered. I have been most successful by carrying things around with me.”

Sebastian nods. Once again, this is sounding familiar for all the wrong reasons.

“As for our first move, I would recommend we search for supplies. When I came to the overlook and found you, I had run out of them for the time being.”

“Got it,” Sebastian says. “Before we do anything though, can I ask you one more question?”

“Of course,” Stefano replies.

“Does the word STEM mean anything to you?” He can’t shake the feeling that what Stefano is describing is very much like STEM. He has no idea how to definitely determine whether they’re in STEM or not, and of course, he probably wouldn’t be able to anyway, but he has to at least see if any of this rings a bell for Stefano.

“Not beyond the traditional definition,” Stefano replies.

“Mobius?” Sebastian prompts. “Ruvik?”

Stefano shakes his head. “Now those are two words I have never heard before.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says, “Had to try.” He drains the last of his coffee, sets the mug on the table, and stubs out his cigarette. 

“Were those words part of your virtual world?” Stefano asks.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “I know this isn’t the same thing, but there are just so many similarities…”

“That may not be a bad thing,” Stefano suggests. “You clearly survived that experience. Maybe some of your skills will carry over.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sebastian sighs. Privately, he thinks it’s more likely that what will carry over from STEM are his fears, his doubts, and his nightmares. If Stefano is already seeing ghosts, Sebastian isn’t looking forward to seeing his own.

He refocuses on Stefano, if only because doing so allows him to put his own fears aside for the time being. “Are you ready to go back out there?”

“As ready as I will ever be,” Stefano replies, getting to his feet.

“That’s the spirit,” Sebastian says, standing up as well. He isn’t sure he’s entirely ready himself, but Stefano has a point. Even if he doesn’t fully understand how things work here, he has no reason to believe the situation will improve any if they sit here waiting. “Should we go back out the window or…?”

“I suppose it hardly matters,” Stefano says thoughtfully, “but I suggest we try our luck with the front door.

“Front door it is,” Sebastian says.

He follows Stefano to the door of the apartment. The tension is heavy in the air as Stefano unlocks the door and takes hold of the knob. He makes eye contact with Sebastian, who nods.

“Here goes nothing,” he says as Stefano turns the knob.


	4. Depth of Field

Stefano isn’t sure what he expects to see when he opens the front door of the apartment, but what he actually sees is a very mundane hallway. It’s a bit underwhelming after the build up of the last hour, but Stefano isn’t complaining. Maybe the town is going to take it easy on them for a while since Sebastian has only just arrived.

If the laws of time and space are functioning normally, they are on at least the third floor, so they head for the end of the hallway and the stairs leading down to street level as Stefano contemplates whether the town might actually alter its presentation to accommodate a newcomer. It did seem that he had an easier time himself in the beginning, though all of that is somewhat of a blur now. Perhaps Silent Hill will give Sebastian the same consideration.

That’s not the only benefit to Sebastian’s presence either. He seems to have some sort of calming effect on Stefano, or at least, he was successful in soothing Stefano’s racing mind just a few minutes ago. In retrospect, Stefano is a little embarrassed at his outburst, but the tension has been building inside him the whole time he’s been here, only to boil over the minute he had someone to confide in. 

Stefano didn’t actually plan to confide in Sebastian either, at least not so quickly after meeting him, but there has to be some mutual exchange in their relationship, he supposes, and Sebastian did provide some information about his own past. Of course, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy Stefano’s curiosity, and as they’re not being attacked at the moment it seems like the perfect time to indulge himself a little.

“Are you a military man?” He asks as Sebastian turns the corner and starts down the second flight of stairs.

“No,” Sebastian replies, “What makes you ask that?”

“The way you cleared that apartment.”

“Oh,” Sebastian stops in his tracks. “Didn’t even think about that.”

It doesn’t surprise Stefano to hear this. Many of the soldiers he worked with had done so many of those building sweeps they could do them in their sleep.

Sebastian starts to descend the stairs again, a little slower this time. “I’m a detective...or...I was a detective.”

“Retired?” Stefano asks, aware that he might be pushing his luck with such a personal question. Sebastian appears to be at least a few years older than Stefano but probably not of retirement age yet.

Sebastian’s laugh is hollow. “Not voluntarily,” he says.

“I see,” Stefano replies, deciding not to press further on this point. Despite his self-professed desire to protect others, Sebastian seems to be quick to anger, and in a world that is already so hostile, the last thing Stefano needs is another enemy. Besides, they’ve now reached the door leading out to the street, or at least the door that is supposed to lead out to the street. Sebastian opens it, and Stefano follows him out onto the sidewalk.

The fog has lifted a bit, and technically speaking the sun is up, but the street has the bleak, dreary look that comes just before a rainstorm. The general sense of abandonment doesn’t help matters. Most of the businesses on this block are boarded up or vacant, but at least the street also seems to be devoid of any monsters for the time being.

“So, we look for supplies?” Sebastian says, turning to face him.

“Yes, that is what I would recommend,” Stefano agrees. He barely managed to make it back to the overlook after his resources ran dry the last time, and his pockets are empty aside from his camera, car keys, and cell phone. He isn’t even sure why he is holding on to the latter two items, as they have become utterly useless to him.

“I guess we probably need food and drinking water to start with,” Sebastian suggests.

Stefano smiles at that, because it does make sense in a way, but not in the way that matters here. Sebastian would probably do well on one of those TV shows where people have to survive in the wilderness, but they are in a place where survival has a very different context. “Perhaps,” he concedes, “though I suspect those are more of a comfort than a necessity here.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano sighs because, once again, he isn’t even entirely sure what he means and he doubts he can explain it to anyone else without sounding completely unhinged. “I have been here for some time, but I rarely find myself experiencing hunger or thirst.”

“Are you sure you’re not just dehydrated?” Sebastian says, raising a suspicious eyebrow. “Did you hit your head or something?” Sebastian takes a step closer- much closer than is socially acceptable, in fact- and appears to be analyzing the size of his pupil.

“Sebastian,” Stefano says firmly, taking a step backward to remove Sebastian from his personal space. “I am not dehydrated, and I have not suffered a head injury. Things just work differently here.”

“Are you sure you’ve been here as long as you think you have?” Sebastian presses on with his questioning, but he doesn’t advance on Stefano again, much to Stefano’s relief.

“No,” Stefano answers bluntly, “but I have already told you that.”

“Right,” Sebastian says, almost to himself before he refocuses on Stefano. “I’m just trying to understand...what are the odds I’m just passed out behind the wheel beside the road having a really bad dream?”

“Very poor,” Stefano answers promptly. “This is a strange sort of reality, but it is our reality.” He pauses, casting about in his mind for another way to explain things. “This is a mental game, Sebastian. Your greatest enemies here are not hunger or thirst but fear, exhaustion, despair…”

Stefano’s voice trails off as Sebastian looks up at the sky, then back at Stefano. “Then we really are fucked, aren’t we?”

“Most probably,” Stefano replies, relieved that Sebastian seems to understand, or at the very least, appreciate the serious nature of their situation. ‘Fucked’ is probably putting it mildly, especially because Sebastian already seems to have difficulty regulating his emotions.

“Fine,” Sebastian says, though Stefano suspects it is more that Sebastian doesn’t want to talk about this anymore than that anything is actually ‘fine’ here. “Let’s see what we can find.”

Sebastian starts off down the street, pausing by one of the shop doors to note the heavy boards blocking the entrance. “It would help if we could find an axe or a crowbar.”

“Not concerned about breaking and entering anymore?” Stefano teases. Knowing Sebastian’s background as a police officer adds some context to his earlier comment, and Stefano can’t resist bringing it up again.

“Not under the circumstances,” Sebastian replies. “Hell, maybe if we can find a brick or something we could just break a window.”

Sebastian continues down the street, leaving Stefano to marvel at how quickly Sebastian seems to have abandoned his convictions and turned to a life of crime. Of course, if their earlier conversation about virtual worlds is any indication, Sebastian’s law enforcement career may not be the experience that is driving his actions here.

The words Sebastian used before, STEM and Mobius and Ruvik, mean nothing to Stefano, but clearly they represent something important to Sebastian, important enough that he needed to know whether Stefano had any relationship to them before they even struck out into the town together. And perhaps Stefano should have asked a few more questions about this ‘virtual world’ Sebastian keeps referring to. It sounds a bit like science fiction, after all, though Stefano wasn’t exactly in a position to call Sebastian’s story far-fetched after the conversation they’d been having.

“What about you?” Sebastian calls back to him.

“What about me?” Stefano asks, unsure exactly what Sebastian is talking about. He jogs a few steps to catch up with Sebastian.

“Are you military?” Sebastian asks. He keeps walking, eyes scanning the storefronts they pass, and Stefano follows close behind. “You knew what I was doing upstairs.”

“No,” Stefano replies. “Well, not exactly. I was a war photographer, so I spent a lot of time in military encampments.”

“What exactly does a war photographer do?” Sebastian asks, not looking back.

“Observe and document,” Stefano says.

“Of course,” Sebastian mutters, “observe and document.” His tone is a little disparaging, the way some of the soldiers used to talk about his work, and Stefano is about to issue a scathing reply when Sebastian makes an exclamation of surprise and turns abruptly into an alley. Stefano steps into the mouth of the alley as well, and immediately sees what has captured Sebastian’s attention.

About fifteen feet into the alley is a body, slumped against the wall. The head lolls over to one side, and Stefano can see a gunshot wound just in front of the right ear. Dried blood and brain matter decorates the wall and pavement to the left side of the body, and Stefano wonders if Sebastian recognizes that this is probably exactly what he would look like right now had Stefano not interrupted him earlier at the overlook.

Sebastian approaches with more caution than Stefano feels is really necessary, considering this person looks to have been dead for at least a few hours, and while he is sizing up the situation, Stefano notices another detail: the dead man is wearing a police uniform.

Stefano didn’t even know there was a Silent Hill PD, but that’s what it says on the uniform shoulder patch. Sebastian takes a look at that, then down at the dead man’s holster, then at the ground around him. Presumably, he’s looking for a weapon, which Stefano agrees is a good idea, but in the next moment a loud burst of static noise issues from the body, followed by a series of beeps.

Stefano’s heart leaps into his mouth, and Sebastian jumps back but quickly catches himself and laughs nervously. He steps in again to take a radio from the dead officer’s duty belt and holds it up for Stefano to see. The radio is silent now, but clearly it was the source of the noise, and Stefano breathes a sigh of relief. There was a time when shouting and explosions and volleys of gunfire were everyday occurrences, but those days are long gone, and now sudden noises can be quite jarring.

Stefano takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart, because if he can’t even handle hearing the radio go off there is no way he’s going to survive this. For his part, Sebastian looks awfully pleased with himself until his gaze falls on the officer’s body again. He lowers the radio to his side and crouches down to examine the body.

“What the hell happened here?” he says, so quietly that Stefano can barely hear him.

Stefano doesn’t think it’s such a great mystery. He’s seen a few suicides in his time on the front lines, and he is sure that Sebastian must have seen them in his line of work as well. The angle of this wound looks self-inflicted to him, though if that’s the case it is odd that the gun isn’t still in this man’s hand or on the ground nearby. Still, none of this matters nearly as much to Stefano as the fact that he’s arrived too late. This might have been an interesting shot if he had been here when it happened. It’s possible that he might still be able to salvage something from this if Sebastian would just get out of the way, but he seems to be having some sort of cathartic experience staring at this dead body.

After a few more seconds, Sebastian stands up and turns back to Stefano, looking momentarily lost.

“The radio,” Stefano reminds him. He hopes sincerely that Sebastian won’t have such a strong reaction to every dead body they see, because surely this is the first of many.

“Oh, yeah,” Sebastian says, looking down at his hand as though he has only just remembered that he picked it up. “Maybe we can use it to call for help.”

“I suppose it is worth a try,” Stefano says, though in his heart, he is sure it’s not going to work. If whatever force is at work here has rendered his cell phone ineffective, he doesn’t have high hopes for radio communication.

Sebastian nods and walks by him, stepping back out into the street. He brings the radio to his mouth and presses the button. “This is Det- This is Sebastian Castellanos. Does anyone copy?”

He releases the button and waits, but there is no answer. Undeterred, he adjusts the settings on the radio and transmits his message again. It looks like it’s going to be a long process, and Stefano turns back to the body in the alley.

There is nothing particularly compelling about this corpse, but it seems a shame not to take at least one photo for posterity. Stefano’s hand is already in his pocket, drawing out the camera so that he can line up his shot. In the background, he can hear Sebastian announcing himself on what sounds like every channel the radio has, but he tunes it out, retreats into his mind, focuses on the visual.

The visual world is where he is comfortable, where he has always been comfortable. Of course, it’s never been quite the same after the loss of his right eye, but he makes due. Some things, like the basic composition of the frame and the lighting, remain the same, while others require much more consideration than before. He is aware now that his own perception of focus and depth of field has changed significantly, and if he wants to properly capture an image for his audience, he needs to take care with those elements. That doesn’t matter now though. This is only for him.

He doesn’t need to spend a long time setting up. The correct composition and framing jumps out at him like a neon sign, and he only has to move until what he sees through the lens matches his vision. Then the shutter clicks, and the spell is broken. He turns back to Sebastian.

“Nothing,” Sebastian says, gesturing with the radio, as though he is completely unaware that Stefano has been doing anything besides watching him. “Either the signal’s not getting out, or nobody’s listening.”

It wouldn’t surprise Stefano if either or both of those were true. “Is it any use to us then?” he asks.

Sebastian frowns at the radio. “Maybe not by itself,” he says, “but if we can find another one, we could use them to communicate.”

It’s a decent idea, and one that Stefano had not even considered, though he can’t say he likes the idea of them being separated from each other in a way that would require radio communication. He suspects Sebastian won’t like it either once he learns what it’s like to be alone here.

Sebastian tucks the radio away, takes one more glance at the dead officer, and bends down to pick up a stray brick from the sidewalk. Apparently, the sight of their first casualty has removed any reservations he had about engaging in illegal activity, because with no preamble he turns to the nearest shop and heaves the brick through the window.

This time, Stefano is prepared for the ear splitting screech of glass shattering, and he steps back out into the street as Sebastian is clearing away the remaining glass in the shop window using his arm. It’s a dubious tactic, and Stefano is not surprised at all when Sebastian exclaims, “Damn it!” and pulls his arm back.

Stefano sighs. “Now what have you done?” He steps forward, instinctively reaching out to take Sebastian’s arm, but Sebastian jerks away.

“It’s fine!” He snarls.

“It does not look fine,” Stefano observes. The wound isn’t gushing or spurting, but blood is already soaking the fabric of Sebastian’s shirt. “Put pressure on it,” he instructs as he steps carefully through the now-empty window frame and into the shop. “I’ll look for a first aid kit.”

“It’s fine,” Sebastian insists. “I can take care of it.”

Stefano doesn’t see the point in arguing any further, so he moves farther into the shop, which turns out to be a small hardware store. The first aid kit is in the second drawer he opens behind the counter, and by the time he has opened it up to take stock of its contents Sebastian is already in the room with him.

Stefano takes out a stack of gauze and a roller bandage and is making another attempt to help when Sebastian grabs them out of his hand, apparently still determined to deal with this himself. Stefano stands by and watches for several seconds as Sebastian, who is clearly very right-handed, attempts to bandage his own right arm. To Stefano’s credit, he doesn’t laugh, at least not out loud, though at times it’s a struggle.

Finally, Sebastian growls in frustration and thrusts the bandage back at Stefano. “I should be able to do this,” he insists. “I’m an EMT.”

“Yes,” Stefano says mildly, picking up a fresh stack of gauze because Sebastian has managed to scatter most of the first one on the floor, “and I am a field medic. Let me help you.”

“Fine,” snaps Sebastian. He thrusts his arm at Stefano and turns his head away. It’s a little odd, because Sebastian didn’t seem upset by the sight of the wound a moment ago, but Stefano brushes it off because, after all, he now has a job to do.

The wound isn’t deep, but it is steadily oozing blood, and they certainly don’t need for Sebastian to be suffering the effects of blood loss on top of everything they are already dealing with. Stefano applies the gauze and wraps the bandage around- or at least he tries to. First he has to pry Sebastian’s arm away from his body which he does without comment. He bandages quickly, applying what he hopes will be enough pressure to stop the bleeding.

After several wraps, he ties the bandage off and considers his handiwork. He can’t help but notice, once again, that Sebastian’s knuckles are already bandaged. Either Sebastian simply has very bad luck or he often attempts such ill-advised stunts as the one he just pulled with the window. As he considers this, he realizes that Sebastian is still holding his body rigid and looking away from him.

“Sebastian,” he prompts. “I am finished. You can move now.”

Sebastian glances back at him, then down at his own arm. Stefano is expecting some sort of comment about how he could have done a better job but Sebastian surprises him with a quiet, “Thanks.” He seems a little subdued, which is probably a good thing, since too much exertion now is just going to put him at risk of more bleeding.

Stefano grabs a chair from behind the counter. “Why don’t you sit down for a moment,” he suggests. “I will check for supplies.”

He fully expects Sebastian to argue, but instead Sebastian takes a seat without a word. Sebastian may be hot-tempered and have a major self-destructive streak, but at least he is capable of taking direction sometimes.

Stefano starts behind the counter, because he suspects that what they’re really looking for won’t be the merchandise in the hardware store but the former owner’s personal possessions. He barely spares a thought for what may have happened to that person. He’s been wandering this place long enough that the previous occupants no longer seem real. The town feels like a husk, a shell, and whatever animal used to live here has been gone for so long there’s no telling what it might have been.

His hunch pays off, because in a drawer next to the one where he found the first aid kit, he finds a box of ammunition. There aren’t many rounds left in it, and even stranger, it’s .38 special ammo, a relatively uncommon caliber in a day and age when most handgun owners opt for 9 millimeter semi-automatic weapons, but he’s willing to bet that it fits Sebastian’s revolver. There is no other reason for it to be here.

Now that he thinks about it, a revolver is an unusual choice for a police officer. The smaller capacity alone makes it a fairly impractical duty weapon, so he surmises that it must be a personal preference.

He looks up at Sebastian, who is still staring straight ahead, which causes Stefano some concern. Whatever Sebastian is trying to sort out, it’s not going to help either one of them if he starts going down a mental rabbit hole right now. Stefano clears his throat.

Sebastian displays no reaction, so Stefano tries a more direct approach to re-engage him. “Why do you carry a revolver?”

“What?” Sebastian says, finally looking at Stefano, then glancing down at his holster. “Oh, always have I guess. The department went to Glock pistols a while back, but these are a lot more reliable.” 

“And you are not concerned about the capacity?” Stefano asks “Or lack thereof?” He’s not overly worried about Sebastian’s gun himself. Any firearm is an improvement on his situation before he met Sebastian, but now that he has Sebastian’s attention back he intends to keep it.

“Nah,” Sebastian says with a shrug. “If it takes you more than six rounds to resolve a situation, you probably should have been using a long gun in the first place.” He takes the revolver out of his holster, looking at it fondly. “Besides, we’ve been together a long time.”

Stefano nods in understanding. He may not have the same enthusiasm for guns that Sebastian does, but Sebastian’s words ring true to him all the same. He has often had a similar conversation when explaining why he prefers shooting analog film to digital. Sometimes making one shot count is much more valuable than taking numerous shots and hoping one turns out the way he wants. And the way Sebastian talks about his gun, as though it is an old friend, is not so different from the way Stefano feels about his camera. Now if only they could find more film or the means to develop anything he has shot...

The thought reminds him of how they ended up talking about guns in the first place. They may not have any more film, but at least they have some ammunition now.

“Here,” Stefano says, holding out the box to Sebastian. “Is this the right caliber for your gun?”

Sebastian takes it, a look of surprise on his face. “Yeah, actually it is,” he says. “Would you look at that.”

Stefano shrugs. “The town provides.”

“Does it really?” Sebastian asks, sounding genuinely intrigued.

“When it wants to. It gives, but it also takes.”

Sebastian has no idea how much it will take from him, and Stefano isn’t ready to explain it right now. He’ll find out soon enough. Stefano begins scanning the shelves of the store for anything that might help them.

Sebastian pockets the ammunition, tossing the box on the floor. “What’s your firearms experience?”

“Basic pistol and rifle training,” Stefano says, not looking up from the shelves. “But I am certainly no marksman. I am actually more skilled with a knife if you can believe that.”

Sebastian laughs. “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” he says. “Do you have one on you?”

“Unfortunately not,” Stefano replies. “I do typically carry one, and I had it when I arrived here, but I...lost it. It is a rather complicated story.” It’s also a terrifying story and one he has no intention of revisiting right now.

“We’ll keep any eye out then,” Sebastian says. “If we’re going to be seeing more things like whatever that was before out on the street, I think we’re both going to need to be armed.”

Stefano is about to state his agreement when he spots something they can definitely use. He turns back to Sebastian, holding a crowbar out in front of him.

“Nice,” Sebastian says. “That should get us into some of these other buildings.”

The crowbar is the only other thing of use in the hardware store aside from the remaining components of the first aid kit, so once Stefano is done searching and has had another look at Sebastian’s bandaged arm to ensure that blood isn’t seeping through the dressing, they head back out onto the street.

They pass a few more empty shops before they reach the grocery store, at which point Sebastian promptly takes custody of the crowbar and smashes the front window, waving the crowbar around inside the frame to clear the excess glass.

Stefano considers telling him that this isn’t at all how a crowbar is supposed to work, but holds his tongue because at least Sebastian isn’t using his arm this time. He shakes his head and climbs through the window frame after Sebastian.

He has to halt immediately, because Sebastian has come to a dead stop, standing in the entryway to what looks to Stefano like a typical grocery store.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah.” There is no inflection in Sebastian’s voice. Stefano circles around to look at his face, but his stare is vacant.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“You have been to a grocery store before, yes?”

Sebastian blinks and finally turns his head to focus on Stefano. “Yes, of course I’ve been to a grocery store.”

Stefano takes a moment to scan the store- or as much of it as he can see from where he’s standing- just in case Sebastian is aware of some disturbance or irregularity that he himself has missed, but everything looks to be in order. Perhaps this is just another one of Sebastian’s quirks. He sighs deeply.

“Come on,” he says, passing by Sebastian to head into the store. “Let’s see what kind of nonperishable foods we can find.”

He can hear Sebastian’s footfalls behind him, so at least Sebastian has enough presence of mind to follow. He moves down the main aisle of the store, checking the smaller side aisles as they pass.

“Myra always starts with the produce,” Sebastian says quietly.

Stefano knows better than to ask who Myra is.


	5. Blood and Sand

Nostalgia is heavy in Sebastian’s chest as he walks the aisles of the grocery store with Stefano. Of course, this is no ordinary trip to the grocery store, because this store hasn’t been open for at least a year, if the dust on the shelves is any indication.

He is dimly aware that by this time of the morning he would normally be starving, but he feels nothing, not even the slightest bit of interest in any of the food on the shelves. Maybe Stefano is right about time having no meaning here. He does pick up a few things and tuck them into his pockets when Stefano is doing the same, but it is mechanical.

It’s a stupid, silly thing how a familiar environment can bring memories flooding back, and it’s not even memories really- more like feelings, impressions of another time. They play out before him like a flipbook, but he can’t see the images clearly, can’t hear the sounds that go with them, and he is left with only the vague idea that something terribly important used to exist in the world. Used to exist. Whatever it was, it’s gone now, and it’s not coming back.

“Sebastian.”

Stefano’s voice is there somewhere in the background. He should probably say something, but deep down, he knows it doesn’t matter if he responds or not.

“Sebastian.”

This time it’s firmer, louder. Yeah, he should definitely say something, but his vocal chords are weighed down with apathy, and making even the smallest sound seems impossibly difficult.

“Sebastian.”

Stefano’s hands close around his upper arms, and Stefano is suddenly much too close. The place where Stefano is touching him burns white-hot, spurs Sebastian to act, and he jumps back, jerking himself out of Stefano’s grasp. His first instinct, bizarrely, is to run, but he squashes that immediately because he’s clearly not running from anything. Stefano is standing a few feet away from him, hands raised in a pacifying gesture and eying him warily.

“Everything alright, Sebastian?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies, surprising himself when he actually manages to produce a sound. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just zoned out for a second there.”

“I see,” Stefano says. He doesn’t look like he believes this any more than Sebastian does, but he is apparently polite enough to let it go. “I do not think there is anything else for us here.”

“Right,” Sebastian agrees immediately, because he doesn’t want to stay here any longer than necessary. The only thing here for him is memories, and he sure as hell doesn’t need those. Stefano is still looking at him with curiosity, so he starts back toward the front of the store. “Let’s go.”

He has already climbed through the window and is standing in front of the store wondering what exactly they are supposed to do next, when his hand falls on the radio clipped to his belt. It’s familiar- the shape and the placement of the buttons is enough to trigger another wave of nostalgia. Actually, it’s almost the exact same model they used in the Krimson City Police Department. Sebastian had a bit of a reputation for losing his, and it makes him smile to remember how Joseph used to help him find it. The smile falls away almost immediately though, because of course Joseph isn’t here. Joseph will never be here again, and it’s his fault.

He flinches at the scape of metal on pavement as Stefano picks up the crowbar behind him. He needs to get it together, needs to get his head back in this or they’re never going to get out of here. The memory of Joseph is still burning in his throat, but at least it has given him an idea.

He removes the radio from his belt, presses the button, and speaks. “This is Sebastian Castellanos. Does anyone copy?” 

Stefano heaves an audible sigh. “Sebastian,” he begins, “we tried that already. No one can hear you.”

“Maybe not,” Sebastian replies, “but I’m back on the frequency it was on when we found it. If there’s another radio in the vicinity, we should be able to hear it.”

Stefano shrugs, “I suppose so.”

Sebastian nods and starts down the street again. Most of the shops they are passing now are either empty or so heavily boarded up that it’s questionable whether it would even be worth it to break into them. At this point, Sebastian has no reason to believe he needs to access any particular location, and Stefano isn’t offering any guidance, so he continues down the street, occasionally broadcasting his message on the radio in hopes of hearing it being transmitted on another unit somewhere.

The whole process highlights the eerie silence of the town. Their footsteps, their breathing, and his voice are the only sounds, and the fog is still draped over everything in a thick blanket. It gives the whole place a dreamlike quality, and Sebastian turns his attention back to the task at hand, because the reality or otherwise of this place isn’t something he wants to think too hard about at the moment.

On the fourth or fifth try, he does catch a faint sound, and when he transmits again, he is able to trace it to an apartment building across the street from them.

“There,” he says, pointing at the building as he turns to Stefano. “We need to get in there.” He knows he probably sounds irrationally excited at the discovery of something as small as another radio, but the idea of accomplishing a goal, even a minor one, is so appealing right now that he can hardly contain himself.

“Very well,” Stefano says.

Sebastian wonders for a moment why Stefano seems to be so content to let him lead the way. If anything, Stefano should be the one in charge here. He’s been in the town longer and seems to have some sense of the rules and the dangers, yet he seems to be entirely willing to follow Sebastian’s lead. It’s odd, but Sebastian tucks that observation away for another time. Right now he has a task to complete.

The radio noise is filtering out through a window that is open a few inches, but it’s a small window, maybe in a bedroom or bathroom. It looks too small for either one of them to fit through, so they’re not getting in that way. He turns his attention to the door.

The door of the apartment building is boarded up, but Stefano makes short work of it with the crowbar. He is surprisingly strong for someone who, Sebastian assumes, is not used to working with his hands, and within minutes Sebastian is entering the building and approaching the door of the unit where the radio sound was coming from.

With Stefano right behind him, he is struck with the urge to comply with standard ‘knock and announce’ procedures, before he remembers that no one is here, and even if someone is here, it’s probably not anyone they want to meet. He tries the door, but it’s locked. He frowns, remembering what Stefano told him earlier.

“Does this mean something?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Stefano replies.

“That’s not very helpful.”

“Well, it may mean that we need to find a key, or that we are not supposed to go in here, or-”

Sebastian gives the door a good shake, and it rattles loudly in its frame, cutting Stefano off. He takes a step back, then aims a kick at the side of the door where the knob and deadbolt are, putting all of his weight behind it. The doorframe splinters around the deadbolt, and the door flies open, striking the wall behind it with a crash.

He freezes in place, listening for any sign of activity inside the unit or elsewhere in the building, but he hears nothing. He doesn’t form a conscious thought, but the next thing he knows he has his gun in one hand and his flashlight in the other and is stepping over the threshold, conducting a visual sweep of the front room, which is empty save for a card table and what looks like several months’ worth of newspapers scattered around.

He’s looking for an obvious threat- a person, a monster, something that might pose a danger to him or the rest of his team, which is why it takes him a second to recognize the most disturbing part of this whole scene. There is blood  _ everywhere _ \- not in pools, but in drips and spatters. It reminds him of how some of his forensics guys could analyze a crime scene using those blood spatters. He’d like to see them try it here, because this is a fucking mess. The blood looks fresh, or at least not fully dried. It still has a vibrant red color, and in some spots it’s even been smeared. The droplets are all over the floor, and even up the walls to about Sebastian’s eye level. That’s where the majority of the smearing is, though there doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it.

He doesn’t look at Stefano. He can’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him or risk being attacked by whatever made this mess, but he says, “Stay behind me. Something happened in here.”

Stefano doesn’t respond, but Sebastian has to assume he understands. Sebastian turns right, moving along the wall until he reaches the next room- the kitchen. The blood spatter is in here too, but otherwise the room is empty, and he continues around until he comes back out into the living room and turns down the hallway toward the bedroom. The hallway is dark, and a quick sweep with his flashlight reveals two doorframes on the right and one on the left.

His heart is beating faster now, because each of those doorframes represents a place of concealment, a place from which he could be attacked. He needs to clear them one by one, stick with the formula. It’s not the time to cut corners or make mistakes, because that’s when people get killed.

He yanks open the first door on the right, quickly directing his flashlight and gun into the space behind it, breathing a sigh of relief when all he sees is an empty linen closet. He closes it and moves on to the next one. He whips around the doorframe, catches a flash of movement beyond it, and nearly pulls the trigger before he realizes he’s looking at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.

He takes a deep breath, tries to collect himself, and turns toward the room across the hall. As soon as the beam of his flashlight crosses the door, everything goes into slow motion. The figure slumped on the floor is a stranger, but the bloodstained uniform could belong to Myra, to Connelly, to any one of the men and women he’s seen injured or killed in the line of duty, and just for a moment it  _ is _ Myra,  _ is _ Connelly,  _ is _ Joseph. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, and he is frozen in place, the same way he was the day Myra was shot.

But this isn’t Myra. Myra is gone, but not like this. It isn’t Myra who is sprawled on the floor in front of him. Myra left, and in all likelihood he will never see her again, and for some stupid reason, it’s this thought that breaks through and jolts him into action.

He steps into the doorway and conducts a visual sweep of the room, which is empty except for the officer’s body. There are blood spatters on the floor and walls here too, but they don’t register as important at the moment. He moves into the room, circling the body to check the closet before he finally drops his guard, heaving a sigh and making eye contact with Stefano in the doorway.

“It’s clear,” he says, although he can barely hear himself over his pounding heart.

He holsters his gun and approaches the corpse, steeling himself for yet another close encounter with a dead man in uniform. It’s not something he has ever gotten used to, no matter how many times he has seen it. The body is slumped on the floor, rolled over onto one side with one arm thrown over the face, and of course, the radio is on the side of the duty belt between the officer’s body and the floor. There is blood here as well, on the uniform, pooling under the head of the corpse, and on the hands.

Sebastian does a quick once over before he touches anything, the same way he would if he was waiting for the evidence techs to respond to a crime scene. Notably, he can’t see any wounds on the body or tears in the clothing. He still has no idea where all of the blood came from when he takes hold of the man’s shoulder and hip, and rolls him onto his back so that he can access the radio.

The arm falls away from the man’s face. Stefano draws in his breath audibly, and even Sebastian has to admit it’s a pretty gruesome sight.

There is no other way to describe it: this man’s eyes have been gouged out. Blood seeps from dark, empty sockets, and runs down the cheeks to reach the clothes and the floor. It’s horrible to look at, but even more horrible when Sebastian realizes this must be the source of all of the blood in the apartment. That after this man was...attacked, he stumbled around blind and terrified for at least a few minutes before succumbing to blood loss.

Stefano murmurs something that Sebastian doesn’t understand, possibly in his native language.

“What’s that?”

“It is nothing,” Stefano replies. He doesn’t sound like it’s nothing, but he has done Sebastian the kindness of letting a delicate subject go a few times already, so Sebastian is willing to return the favor. He turns his attention back to the corpse.

Like the officer’s body they found in the alley, this one also has no weapon, just an empty holster. It’s a strange coincidence, and Sebastian is beginning to wonder if the Silent Hill Police carry guns at all, and if they did, whether it would have helped this man. Of course, the first officer they found had clearly shot himself in the head, so apparently he had a gun at some point.

He takes the radio, carefully removing it from the duty belt and standing up. Stefano has a faraway look in his eye, but he refocuses when Sebastian clears his throat.

“Well at least we-“ he starts to say, but he is cut off by an ear-splitting burst of static from the radio.

“What the fuck?” He shouts, jumping in surprise before he begins trying to adjust the dials. Nothing makes a difference though. The noise just keeps up, grating on his ears, and if anything it’s actually getting louder. He looks to Stefano to see if he has any idea what’s going on, but Stefano is staring back down the hallway toward the front of the apartment, a look of horror on his face and the crowbar clutched tightly in his hands.

“Stefano-” he begins, but Stefano is already over the threshold and in the room with him, and it’s not like Stefano could have heard him over the noise of the god damn radio anyway. Stefano is clearly distraught though, and Sebastian leans in to shout in his ear. “What is it?”

“It’s one of those things from before,” Stefano calls back over the blaring static.

“Fuck,” Sebastian says, more to himself than to Stefano, because this is bad. The room they are in is a dead end with the only possible exits being two windows that are high up from the floor and so small that even if they helped each other up, they wouldn’t be able to fit through them to get outside. The only doors lead to the hallway and the closet.

Sebastian does consider hiding for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like a viable option. Stefano has obviously seen the thing already, and in the small apartment, it has to have seen him too... if those things can even see. The last one they encountered didn’t have any obvious eyes, but Sebastian also didn’t really get close enough to be sure about that. For that matter, he’s not sure how smart they are, and he’s considering directing Stefano into the closet when the creature reaches the doorway of the room.

His gun is in his hand before he can even think to draw it, but he hesitates for a moment as his instincts tell him to hold his fire. It’s ridiculous, but it’s deeply ingrained, and suddenly he knows why. Even though this is the way these monsters have approached them, he has the strong impression that he’s looking at someone’s back. The way the legs bend, the way the shoulders are hunched- everything gives the impression that this is a person walking backward and dragging a heavy load. He only has a second to consider this before Stefano’s hand closes on his arm and jerks him farther into the room.

The new realization is quickly forgotten in favor of survival, and Sebastian only takes a moment to get balanced on his feet and regain his aim before he pulls the trigger. The bullet hits center mass. Sebastian is sure of this because there is a very obvious burst of...something from the monster’s chest. It looks like dust or sand, but he doesn’t have much time to consider it, because the thing is still coming at them, seemingly unfazed by the hollow point round.

Sebastian steps back and manages to get off two more shots before the monster pauses. At first, Sebastian thinks he may have succeeded in damaging it, but then he can see that it’s only shifting its weight heavily to one side of its body. After what he saw in the alley, Sebastian can guess what’s coming, and apparently so can Stefano, because they both dive out of the way as the creature swings at them with its weird posterior appendage, missing them both by inches and knocking a huge hole in the drywall.

Sebastian has just a moment to process that this appendage has the same basic shape and contours of another human body, though the creature’s uniformly thick, leathery skin makes it difficult to pick out any details. He struggles to his feet, taking a couple steps back and firing three more times, because they’re still effectively cornered. They do have a straighter shot to the door now, but they’d have to pass so close to this thing that it would surely hit them if they tried.

“Shit,” he mutters, then realizes the radio is still going fucking crazy and Stefano can’t possibly hear him. “Gun’s empty,” he shouts, frantically casting his eyes around the room for some way to kill this thing or at least buy them enough time to escape. There’s no way he’s going to get the gun reloaded in time to do them any good, and the monster’s range is so great that the crowbar isn’t going to help them either.

The creature is advancing on them again, and Sebastian’s back is against the wall. They’re going to have to dodge the next strike and then try to make a run for it, but in such close quarters he’s afraid they won’t have enough space to avoid the next blow. His eyes are locked on the advancing monster, ready to anticipate its next attack when he hears the crowbar clatter to the ground. Then there is a loud click and a bright flash of light.

He looks quickly to his left to see that Stefano is now holding that camera in his hands, and he is about to tell him this is no time for a fucking picture when he realizes that the room has gone silent. The radio is quiet, and when he looks back at the monster, it is frozen in place.

He grabs Stefano’s arm, but Stefano doesn’t budge. “Come on,” he hisses. “Let’s get out of here!”

It’s no use. Stefano is rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed on the monster. And then Sebastian’s gaze is fixed on it as well, because something is happening.

Sand is pouring out of a gaping hole in its chest, almost as though the camera flash has blasted a hole right through the center of it. It bends at the knees, dropping down to the floor. The top part of its body leans back- or is it forward?- over the other part, so that it is almost bent double on itself for a moment until it sags over onto its side on the floor. The sand rushes out for a few more seconds before everything is still.

Sebastian can’t make any sense of what he has seen. He looks over at Stefano, who is still frozen in place, camera held in both hands in front of him. His gaze is vacant, and he seems to be unaware of Sebstian’s hand still on his arm.

“Hey,” Sebastian says quietly. Now that the immediate threat is gone, he can afford to be a little more careful in how he handles Stefano. When Stefano doesn’t respond, Sebastian holsters his gun and pivots around to stand in front of him, taking him by the shoulders. “Stefano,” he says a bit louder.

That gets a reaction. Stefano startles backward with a noise of surprise, though he can’t go far as there is a wall directly behind him. His eye is wild, and Sebastian releases his shoulders and takes a step back, trying to give him some space.

Stefano takes a few deep breaths, fingers fumbling over the camera. “My apologies,” he says after a few seconds. “I…” he shakes his head, declining to finish his sentence.

Sebastian’s attention is back on the camera in his hands. “What the hell did you just do?” he asks, reaching for it.

“Don’t!” Stefano snaps, drawing it back and shoving it into his pocket.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says. “I didn’t mean to...I just...that’s a normal camera right?”

“Yes,” Stefano says with a curt nod. “Or at least, it was before I came to this town.”

“And now it’s what?” Sebastian asks. “Some kind of weapon?” He gestures at the monster on the floor, but when he turns to look there is only a pile of sand. Somehow that’s not terribly surprising after everything else that’s just happened.

“It would seem so,” Stefano says, though his voice betrays about as much confusion as Sebastian is feeling at the moment. Sebastian is still considering the pile of sand on the floor when Stefano speaks again. “I do not want to stay here any longer.”

“That makes two of us,” Sebastian agrees, because now that the monster is gone, he is remembering everything else that is weird and creepy about this apartment. “Let’s get back outside while we still can.”

He picks up the second radio, which he apparently dropped in their struggle with the monster, and hands it to Stefano, who takes it without comment and puts it into his pocket, then bends down to retrieve the crowbar. Neither one of them says a word as they walk back through the apartment, through the hallway, and out the front door to find themselves in the fog again.


	6. Dynamic Range

_ Pain explodes through him, starting in his chest and pulsing out to his extremities in a white-hot rush of adrenaline and fear. It knocks the wind out of him, locks up all of his muscles. He can feel his knees starting to buckle as the world turns on its side. _

_ “Stay with me. It’s going to be okay.” The voice is familiar. It makes his heart race- but not with fear- even though it’s a voice he hasn’t heard in years. He wants to answer, but his mouth is dry and tastes of sand. _

_ His vision has gone dark, and now he is afraid, because without his sight he is helpless, fumbling in a great void. He goes still, waiting, hoping the voice will return. He doesn’t have to wait long. _

_ “Stefano, look at me,” the voice continues. “I need you to focus.” There are arms around his chest supporting him, and he lets his body sag into those arms. It’s all he’s wanted these last three years after all, to feel those arms around him again. They can’t take his pain away, but they can make it bearable. _

_ “Stefano.” The voice is more insistent this time. “Stand up. We need to keep moving.” _

_ He would stand up if he could. He wants to please the voice, but his body feels heavy and none of his limbs are cooperating. He can feel himself being lowered to the ground. It brings a stab of panic, because surely he will be abandoned now, blind and immobile and in pain, with no chance of survival. _

_ He tries to cry out, to protest, but it’s like a nightmare where he desperately wants to scream but can’t make any sound come out. He fights, pushes through, lets the sound build in his throat until it finally springs forth from his lips. _

The spell is broken with that one strangled cry.

Sebastian’s face swims into focus above him. Stefano feels a flicker of disappointment, because it’s not the face he was hoping to see, not the face he was expecting to see, but then he remembers where he is.

“Stefano?” Even though Sebastian’s face is upside down, Stefano can see that his brow is furrowed with concern. He clears his throat, relieved that his vocal chords no longer seem to be paralyzed although his mouth still feels inexplicably gritty.

“What...what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies, an expression of relief washing over his features. “You had some kind of attack. Just sort of fell as we were coming down the steps, and I couldn’t get you to answer me.”

The events come rushing back to him all at once. The corpse in the apartment, the monster, the flash of his camera. He runs his hand over his pocket to make sure the camera is still there, comforted when he feels its familiar shape under his hand.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano has to think about that one for a moment. The sidewalk is hard under his back, but the intense pain and fear of a few moments ago is gone. He can’t explain his sudden lapse in consciousness, but there doesn’t seem to be anything actually wrong with him at the moment aside from some lingering dizziness and a terribly dry mouth.

“Yes,” he replies. “I believe I am.” He raises his head from what he realizes belatedly is Sebastian’s knee and sits up.

“Easy.” Sebastian’s hand is on his shoulder. “We need to get moving, but it’s not going to do us any good if you pass out again.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” Stefano says, shrugging Sebastian’s hand off of his shoulder. It’s bad enough that he apparently fainted in front of Sebastian, and he’s certainly not going to give this man, who is still basically a stranger, any more reason to fuss over him.

He gets to his feet cautiously, eye still on Sebastian, who looks like he is just bursting to offer some kind of help. Fortunately Stefano’s legs support him, and by the time Sebastian stands as well, Stefano is feeling much more confident in his motor skills.

Sebastian is still giving him a bit of an odd look, but Stefano is prepared to write that off as Sebastian’s lingering concern that he is going to collapse again until Sebastian says, “Uh...Stefano?”

“I said I am fine,” Stefano says firmly, because he really is fine and it’s time for Sebastian to mind his own business.

“I know,” Sebastian says. “It’s just…your hair is…” He raises his hand to his own face, and Stefano mirrors him, realizing to his absolute horror that his hair is askew and most of his face is now exposed.

He turns away from Sebastian abruptly, though he’s sure the damage is already done, and doesn’t turn back until he is satisfied that he has groomed his hair back into place, or at least accomplished as much as he can using only his fingers. When he faces Sebastian again, Sebastian has just finished reloading his gun. He pops the cylinder back into place and looks up at Stefano.

“You know-” he begins.

“Don’t.” Stefano doesn’t need to hear it, doesn’t need Sebastian’s curiosity or pity or horror at the state of his face, doesn’t need to hear that ‘it’s not that bad,” because it is pretty fucking bad and he knows it. He feels naked, exposed before this man, and it’s time to do some damage control. There may be some cracks in his walls, but he can build them back up.

“Alright,” Sebastian concedes, “but let’s get somewhere safe. I think I need a minute.”

Stefano nods. He needs a minute too, though ‘safe’ is a relative term here and anything resembling safety is in short supply.

Sebastian is a bit more hopeful, judging by the way he starts off down the street. Stefano can’t help but notice Sebastian is moving a bit slower than before, but at least he is allowing Stefano his space, and aside from the occasional surreptitious glance back, he appears to be more focused on their surroundings than on Stefano.

A few blocks away they find a door standing open, and Stefano doesn’t know whether this is a very good sign or a very bad one, but Sebastian seems eager to investigate. It leads to a small restaurant, not much larger than a cafe. Sebastian scopes out the kitchen and the area behind the counter before declaring it safe and sitting down in one of the booths. Stefano slides onto the bench across from him, relieved to be off his feet at least for the moment.

His relief is short-lived.

“So,” Sebastian begins “Do you want to tell me what all of that was?”

Sebastian is very optimistic indeed if he thinks anyone, particularly Stefano, can explain any of what just happened. In addition to that, some of it is very private and not at all Sebastian’s business. Stefano opens his mouth and draws in a breath to convey all of this to Sebastian when he is suddenly overtaken by a coughing fit. It’s the dry, sandy feeling in his mouth again, and he turns away from Sebastian, chest spasming over and over as he tries to clear his throat of something that he’s fairly certain only exists in his imagination.

Even, so it feels very real, and he is still struggling with it when Sebastian returns to the booth and sets a glass of water down on the table in front of him. Stefano seizes it, drinking deeply and finding that it is actually quite effective at soothing his throat. Only when he is sure he can speak without coughing does he remember what Sebastian asked him, but he hesitates to deliver the rebuke he had prepared.

Sebastian is proving to be a dependable ally if not a particularly effective one. Stefano is well aware that some of the things Sebastian does come down to basic human decency, but Sebastian has also had at least two opportunities to abandon him in the last half hour, opportunities where a more practical person might have opted for self-preservation. The fact that Sebastian didn’t has to mean something, and right now it means telling Sebastian to stay out of his affairs is not a viable option. Of course, the question he is asking is still rather complicated.

“Can you be more specific?” Stefano asks. “I may be able to provide some insight, but quite a lot of unusual things just happened.”

“What about the camera?” Sebastian asks. “Have you ever used it like that before?”

“No,” Stefano replies, because he is sure of that. “I have used it to document things I see, and a few times I have used the flash for light in very dark areas, but I have never tried to use it against one of the creatures.”

“What made you decide to do it then?” Sebastian presses. “Were you going to document our death or something?” There is a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but Stefano ignores it. He has grown accustomed to people not understanding his vision, his particular concept of art, or his role as an artist.

He has to cast back in his mind to decipher what he was thinking at the time, because everything happened so quickly. “No,” he replies finally. “I thought that if I could blind it for a moment I could buy us enough time to escape.”

Sebastian frowns. “Did it even have eyes? I’m not sure it had a face at all.”

“Perhaps not,” Stefano says, “but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.” He resists the urge to point out that Sebastian's plan of shooting the creature wasn’t exactly going well either.

“How were you dealing with the monsters before you met me?”

“I have been avoiding them for the most part- running, hiding,” Stefano says with a deep sigh. Sebastian is clearly not going to let up with the questions, and he is starting to feel a bit like he is being interviewed. “It has been quite exhausting.”

Exhausting is an understatement. It’s not just the physical demands either. The constant stress, the tension in his jaw, in his shoulders that comes from having to be on the alert every single second is wearing on him. The town plays by its own rules, and he never knows when he is actually safe or when he is in danger.

“I did engage one earlier,” he adds. “That is how I lost my knife.” He doesn’t elaborate. It’s not a story he wants to tell right now, but luckily Sebastian goes in a different direction.

“That last one didn’t seem to mind being shot too much. Maybe fighting isn’t the answer.”

Stefano has to give Sebastian some credit, because he thought it was going to take much longer for Sebastian to figure this out. He feels a smile tug at his mouth. “What was it you said about needing more than six shots to resolve a situation?”

“Hey,” Sebastian says. His tone is mock-offended, but his body language is relaxed and Stefano can tell he’s joking. “That’s for regular human attackers, not...whatever that was.” He shudders. “Besides, you’d better believe if we had a shotgun I’d be using it.”

Stefano would also feel much safer if they had a shotgun, but he doesn’t have much hope of that. From what he’s seen so far, the town makes it possible to survive- not easy- and it certainly never allows him to feel comfortable or confident. It’s not unlike the battlefield, now that he thinks about it- the constant stress of impending destruction. Of course, he did find some ways to cope with that stress.

“You alright?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano realizes he’s gone silent as he has allowed his mind to wander.

“Yes,” he replies quickly. “Though I am not sure about finding more powerful weapons. Did you have anything like that in STEM?”

Sebastian’s eyes widen for a moment before he responds, “Yeah, I did, but some of the creatures were so strong that it was still risky to face them head-on.” He pauses for a moment. “I wonder if the camera will work on the others.”

Stefano hums noncommittally. He can’t believe it would actually be as easy as just pointing his camera at every monster and snapping a photo. Of course, it’s the only thing that seems to be effective at this point.

“What about the officer we saw in there?” Sebastian asks, switching topics abruptly.

“What about him?”

“What do you think happened to him?” Sebastian says. “Have you seen anything that could do...that?” He gestures to his eyes.

Stefano wonders if Sebastian realizes the full import of what he is asking, because Stefano knows of at least one thing that can leave someone missing an eye. Of course, that is part of the real world, the world he left behind when he came to Silent Hill. “No,” he replies. “I have not seen anything like that.”

There is a long silence before Sebastian says, “Uh, I’m sorry, but I have to ask-”

“No.” Stefano cuts him off. “You don’t.”

Sebastian frowns. “Look, I’m not trying to pry and I don’t need details, but can you just tell me if that-”. He gestures at his own face. “-happened here in Silent Hill?”

Stefano is staring hard at him, but he seems to be earnest in his question and not offering any ridicule. “No,” Stefano answers. “It happened quite some time ago.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says. For a moment, it looks like he won’t be able to resist the urge to ask a follow-up question, and Stefano is already bracing himself, but when Sebastian speaks again it is to ask something else. “And what about what happened as we left the apartment building?”

Stefano sighs, casting his gaze down to the table between them. “I feel like I am saying this quite a lot lately, but I do not know.” What he saw- or rather didn’t see- and what he heard in those moments before he opened his eye and saw Sebastian were so vague, just echoes of memories or maybe even dreams. Surely some of it was influenced by the words Sebastian was saying to him, but there was something else there as well, something from his past.

He raises his head to look at Sebastian again. “Perhaps a lot of things caught up with me at once.” Sebastian’s words from earlier are echoing in his head, and it’s the best way he can describe what happened.

Sebastian is looking skeptical. “And you don’t have any other medical conditions I should know about?”

“No,” Stefano replies, “nothing like that.”

Sebastian’s eyebrow is still raised. “You’re shaking,” he says, nodding toward Stefano’s hands where they rest on the table.

Stefano looks down at his own hands and sees that Sebastian is right. He takes a deep breath and makes a conscious effort to steady himself. “My apologies.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sebastian says. “But let me know if you’re feeling weak again.”

Stefano bristles at the word ‘weak’. Rationally, he is sure that Sebastian only means that Stefano should tell him if he is feeling physically ill or faint again, but the word echoes in his head. He can’t afford to be weak here. He can’t afford to be weak anywhere, but especially not here.

“I am quite alright, thank you.” His voice comes out colder than he intended. Then, desperate for a change in subject, he adds, “Any thoughts on where we go from here?”

“Does it matter where we want to go?” Sebastian asks, raising an eyebrow. “Earlier you made it sound like the town will just send us where it wants.”

“Most likely,” Stefano agrees.

“Well,” Sebastian says, heaving a sigh and getting to his feet. “No reason to keep it waiting. Let’s get going.”

Stefano stands as well, relieved to find that he doesn’t sway on his feet this time. Apparently he has recovered as much as he is capable of under the circumstances.

When they step out the door of the restaurant, Stefano’s eye is immediately drawn to a huge building set back from the street by a deserted green area. The fog has cleared enough that he can see the sign in front of it which reads ‘Alchemilla Hospital.’ Stefano could swear it wasn’t there when they went into the restaurant, though of course he was a little disoriented at that point. Still, he’s sure he would have noticed such an imposing structure.

Sebastian has stopped dead in his tracks, eyes fixed on the sign. “No way,” he says. “There’s no chance I’m going into a hospital, especially not here.”

Stefano isn’t so sure they’re going to have any choice in the matter, but Sebastian seems determined to at least try to avoid the hospital. He starts off down the street past it at a brisk walk, and Stefano follows.

They haven’t made it fifty meters past the door of the hospital when Sebastian slows and then stops. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, looking down into the chasm in front of them.

He walks to the other side of the street, which is occupied entirely by a long brick building that appears to have no doors or windows, or maybe it’s just a brick wall. Whatever it is, they effectively can’t go in either of these two directions, so their only options are back the way they came or into the hospital.

Stefano already has an idea which of those options Sebastian is going to choose, so he is not at all surprised when Sebastian turns on his heel and starts walking back up the street. They make their way back until they draw level with the door of the restaurant, where Sebastian stops. He turns to Stefano.

“Isn’t something going to stop us from going this way?” he asks with a bitter laugh.

Stefano is about to speak when there is a crackle of static on the radio in his pocket, and apparently on Sebastian’s too, if the way Sebastian looks quickly down at it is any indication.

Sebastian snatches the radio from his belt and raises it to his mouth. “This is Sebastian Castellanos.”

He releases the button, and the static continues, but there is no voice on the other end. Sebastian looks perplexed. He tries holding the radio in different positions and taking a few steps away from Stefano, but the static persists. In fact, if anything it is getting louder.

“What is wrong with this thing?” mutters Sebastian.

While Sebastian is puzzling over the radio, Stefano remembers the last time they heard the radio static. It gives him an uneasy feeling.

“Sebastian,” he says, “I think something is coming.”

“What?” Sebastian asks, still fiddling with the radio.

“Something’s coming,” Stefano says, voice stronger this time, his confidence growing as he pieces it together in his mind. “Remember back in the apartment building?” he says. “The static picked up as soon as that thing came into the apartment, and it stopped as soon as it was dead.”

Sebastian is looking at Stefano now, though his face is twisted into a frown. “How do you know that’s-” he begins, but he falls silent when Stefano raises his arm and points down the street. A dark shape is moving toward them. It is indistinct, shrouded in fog, but it looks much larger than the last creature they encountered.

“Shit,” says Sebastian in a low voice, and Stefano agrees with that sentiment entirely. Part of him is curious to see what this new threat might look like, but he knows if they linger they will likely pay with their lives. He turns to Sebastian, and he can see the conflict in his face as well, can almost see his brain is turning over their remaining options before he turns and jogs toward the hospital.

Stefano follows. He is not overly eager to visit the hospital, but it does seem to be the lesser of two evils, at least at the moment. After a few steps, the static on their radios fades away to silence, which, as far as Stefano is concerned, confirms his theory that it is triggered by the approach of the monster.

Sebastian reaches the door first. He braces himself and gives a hard tug on the door handle, which turns out to not be really necessary because the door flies open so quickly that Sebastian almost loses his balance. It’s quite lucky the door is unlocked, Stefano thinks, because he’s just now realized they’ve lost their crowbar somewhere between the apartment building and here. Maybe he dropped it when he fainted, but in any case, he doesn’t have it now.

Sebastian is already inside the building, and Stefano takes one more glance over his shoulder before he crosses the threshold himself, but he still can’t make out more than an indistinct outline through the fog.

Once the door closes behind them, Sebastian is in motion again, barricading the door with a couple of the chairs that line the entryway. Stefano isn’t sure how much good that’s going to do. If something is going to get in, it’s unlikely that a physical barrier will stop it, but at least it has given Sebastian something to focus on.

“I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to,” Sebastian says once he has finished. “There has to be another entrance somewhere. Let’s find it.”

“Very well,” Stefano agrees. He finally takes a moment to consider their surroundings. They are not in a large open waiting area like one might expect in a hospital, but in a windowless corridor. Obviously this is not the hospital’s main entrance. The corridor they are standing in continues straight for twenty meters before it branches off to the left and right. There are doors on each side of the hall, but Sebastian ignores them, continuing forward until he reaches the split.

He turns back to Stefano, who knows exactly what he is going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“No,” Stefano says flatly. “We are not going to split up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Sebastian says. “That’s why we have the radios, remember?” Stefano is pretty sure that they’ve just learned the radios have multiple uses, but Sebastian is still coming up with justifications for them separating. “And it’ll take twice as long to find our way out if we stick together.”

“Absolutely not.” Stefano is very firm on this point. He has been alone here before and he has no intention of being alone here again. “It is much too dangerous, and I don’t have a flashlight.”

“Fine,” Sebastian sighs, obviously exasperated, “But let’s get moving. This place gives me the creeps.”

They start with the corridor branching to the left, and Sebastian has a point, because to describe this place as creepy would be an understatement. The first part of the hallway was very dusty and clearly abandoned, but the farther they get into the building, the more clear it becomes that no one has used it in a long time. Ceiling tiles have fallen to the floor, the walls are torn open so that the wiring of the building is exposed, and there are strange puddles on the floor. The place has a wet, musty odor that is turning Stefano’s stomach a little bit, and of course it is pitch-dark except for the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight.

Sebastian pauses at an alcove in the hallway, and Stefano realizes why when Sebastian opens the cover of a breaker box.

“Sebastian, I don’t think-” Stefano starts to say, but Sebastian has already started flipping switches. Not only is this unlikely to work, as far as Stefano is concerned, but even if the box is being powered, it’s much more likely to start a fire or electrocute them than to do anything useful. And of course there’s the fact that Sebastian is standing in a puddle.

To his great surprise, the lights flicker and then come on, bathing the hallway with the vaguely nauseating glow of harsh fluorescent lights. It’s actually the perfect compliment to the smell, but at least now they can see their surroundings.

“See,” Sebastian says, gesturing to the lights. “I know what I’m doing.”

Stefano agrees with that statement whole-heartedly as long as Sebastian will stipulate that what he is doing is engaging in a series of reckless actions with no regard for his own safety. As it stands, he doesn’t seem to be willing to listen to anything Stefano has to say, so Stefano simply shakes his head and starts down the hallway again.

“What?” Sebastian says, stepping in front of Stefano to block his path. There is a challenge in his voice this time, and Stefano stops short. “What is it with you?” Sebastian continues. “I don’t see how we’re supposed to work together if you’re going to get all passive aggressive every five minutes.”

“And I do not see how we are going to work together if you insist on putting yourself in danger every time it is remotely possible to do so.”

“What?” Sebastian snaps. “You mean a second ago with the electrical box?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies, “and earlier when you cut your arm.”

“You’re seriously upset about that?” Sebastian says, the incredulity clear in his voice. “Those stupid little things?”

“Yes,” Stefano insists. “Those stupid little moments when you could have easily found a safer alternative and you chose not to.”

“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian retorts, “and why the hell are you suddenly so worried about me? What do you care if I live or die? You said yourself you’re just here to observe and document!”

“Sebastian,” Stefano begins, because this is starting to get out of hand. As much as he’d prefer that Sebastian used a little more caution, being here with self-destructive Sebastian is still better than being alone. “There is no need to-”

“Shut up!” Sebastian cuts him off. His breath is coming hard and fast now. “Just shut up! Unless you’re going to stop observing and actually do something for once!”

The words hit Stefano like a slap in the face. He stands in stunned silence as Sebastian turns on his heel and stalks off down the hall, rounding a corner and disappearing from view. A memory nudges at the edge of his consciousness.

_ “Don’t you ever want in on the action?” The tone isn’t accusatory, but the words still cut Stefano deeply. No matter how close he is, he isn’t one of them, and he never will be. _

_ “What do you mean?” he replies. “I see plenty of action.” _

_ “I mean, don’t you ever want to participate? Get off the sidelines for once?” _

_ “I am not on the sidelines,” he says firmly. He isn’t...or if he is, then he doesn’t know any other way to be. The world has never looked as real to him as it does through the lens of his camera. _

The siren blares, and Stefano’s first instinct is to find cover from the impending air strike, but as soon as he moves he realizes he is not at the military encampment. He is in the hallway of Alchemilla Hospital. The siren is howling. Sebastian is nowhere to be seen. The lights flicker wildly and then go out, and Stefano’s heart leaps into his throat.


	7. The Manhunter

The siren jolts Sebastian out of his anger and back to reality. He’s ready for action and running on instinct, because the siren is exactly like the one installed in every KCPD police cruiser. He feels the rush of adrenaline, because that sound means excitement and danger. It means shit’s going down. His first reaction is to run toward it, but he quickly finds that’s not possible, because the sound is coming from all around him.

Then he freezes. Something is wrong. The siren becomes more and more distorted and there is a rising level of garbled sound mixed in with it, like rushing water or an aircraft engine. He turns on his heel, intending to ask Stefano what the hell is going on, but Stefano isn’t there.

“Damn it,” Sebastian mutters. He knows he took off without Stefano after their argument, but he had assumed Stefano would be right behind him. He starts back down the hallway, but the siren is getting louder, and the lights flicker. Sebastian doesn’t even have time to swear again before they go out completely, plunging the hallway into total darkness.

He fumbles to turn on his flashlight, but before he can, the lights come back on. Or at least, some kind of light comes back on. The hallway is bathed in an eerie red light that has no obvious source. The siren has gone quiet, but the whole building resonates with a strange, low-pitched tone like the hum of a distant generator.

Sebastian is frozen for a moment, afraid to even breathe as he listens for Stefano, for some enemy, for anything besides the humming. There is nothing.

“Stefano?” Sebastian calls. He walks back to the last corner he turned and looks down the hall, fully expecting to see Stefano standing there. The hallway is long, longer than he remembers it being when they walked down it the first time, and it is completely empty. “Stefano?”

There is no answer.

“God damn it, Stefano,” Sebastian calls out, starting down the hallway. “This isn’t the time to go off on your own.” He sighs. Stefano’s sudden disappearance strikes him as a childish response to their argument, especially since Stefano is the one who keeps insisting they need to stay together. He is starting to see the wisdom in those words, though of course he’s not going to admit that to Stefano.

He tries a couple of the doors that line the hallway, just to see if Stefano might have ducked into one of them, but each one he checks is locked tightly. He makes his way back down to the place where the hallway splits, then goes all the way back to the entryway where he made his furniture barricade. Only the barricade isn’t there anymore. Instead the door has metal bars in front of it, and they run floor to ceiling like the bars of a prison cell. 

Sebastian just stares for a few seconds. Stefano talked about how the town bends time and space, but this is the first real, concrete example he’s seen of that. These bars weren’t here before, and they weren’t constructed in the couple of minutes when he and Stefano were around the corner. The fundamental nature of this building has changed, and that terrifies him, not just because he might as well be lost now, but because he has no idea if and when it’s going to change again.

But at least the bars provide one answer. He isn’t going to be able to get out this way, and Stefano didn’t get out this way either.

The burst of static on the radio scares the shit out of him, but then he catches Stefano’s voice.

“Sebastian?”

He grabs his own radio and answers, “Yeah, I’m here. What the hell just happened?”

“...some sort of shift in the building…” Stefano’s voice is a bit garbled, but at least Sebastian can understand him for the most part, even if he doesn’t like what he’s hearing. It confirms exactly what he was thinking, but somehow it’s worse to hear Stefano say it. He waits a few seconds to make sure Stefano is done speaking before he replies.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m by the door we came in, but it doesn’t look the same anymore. Everything’s changed.”

He doesn’t fully realize what he’s saying until the words are out of his mouth, but when he looks around, he can see that he’s right. Everything has changed. There is no more rotting drywall and fallen ceiling tiles. The walls are intact and blank except for the reflected red light, and the doors are heavy and metal, the kind that would be more at home in a high security bank vault than a hospital. They might as well be in a completely different building.

Stefano’s next words send a chill up Sebastian’s spine.

“Sebastian... _ I’m _ by the door we came in.”

“That’s...that’s not possible,” Sebastian says into the radio. “You must have gotten turned around or something. Did you hear me when I was calling you?”

There is a burst of static on the other end, and then his own voice is coming out of the radio, slowed down and distorted so that it makes the radio vibrate in his hand. “ _ Did you hear me when I was calling you _ ?”

Sebastian depresses the transmit button to call Stefano again, but the static doesn’t stop, and his own distorted voice is repeating on a loop.

_ When I was calling you...when I was calling you...when I was calling you. _

He stares at the radio in horror, because this is fucked up and there is no rational explanation for what is going on here. Suddenly, the radio goes silent, the distant humming stops, and another voice rings out in the dead air of the empty building.

“Dad!”

“Lily?” Sebastian shouts back before he even has time to process what he’s hearing.

“Dad, where are you?”

It’s not Lily. It can’t be Lily. Lily is dead. He was at her funeral. He watched them lower the tiny casket into the ground. Lily is rotting away in Krimson Cemetery, but this is undoubtedly her voice, and there is only one possible response.

“I’m right here!” Sebastian yells, starting back down the hall. The voice isn’t coming from the radio, but he can’t determine which direction it’s coming from either. “Lily?”

He pauses to listen, but the next scream is ear-splitting, wordless, and terrified. Sebastian breaks into a run, plunging forward into the dimly lit hallway.

  
  
  
  


“Sebastian... _ I’m _ by the door we came in.”

Stefano shudders at the realization that he and Sebastian are in the same place at the same time...and yet somehow not anywhere near each other. It shouldn’t be a surprise, because this is exactly what he’s been worried about every time Sebastian starts to get too far away from him.

What is worse is that it’s partly his fault. Yes, Sebastian baited him, but he didn’t have to take that bait. Sebastian is rash and impulsive, driven by his emotions. Stefano can see that clearly, and he’s only known the man for a few hours. But Stefano himself should be better than that, is better than that. He was that man once, and he can never be that man again. He won’t allow it.

“That’s...that’s not possible.” Sebastian’s voice comes across the radio. “You must have gotten turned around or something.” Stefano rolls his eye, because of course Sebastian would never consider that he might be the one who got turned around. 

He presses the button on his radio and begins to speak, “Listen to me, Sebastian. Stay where you are. Do not let it-”

A burst of static on the radio cuts him off. He presses the button a few more times with no result before sighing deeply. It appears he is on his own, at least for now, which means Sebastian is on his own as well. Hopefully he is competent enough to survive until their next meeting...if they ever do meet again. Stefano doesn’t want to think about that possibility that they won’t. He can’t face this town alone again.

He puts the radio into his pocket and takes a few moments to consider his surroundings. It isn’t as horrifying as he expected a hospital in Silent Hill to be, but he is sure it can get worse. The blue light gives an eerie glow to the hallway, like a night effect in a movie, but at least he can see. He still doesn’t have a flashlight, so if the lighting fails entirely, he is really going to be in trouble.

Part of him wants to sit down right here and stay put, because he knows what the town is doing, and he wants it to know that he knows. He’s dealt with enough twists and turns and shifts in reality during his time here, and he doesn’t want to play the game anymore. The problem is, if he doesn’t willingly participate in its grand design, then the town will find some way to motivate him.

As if on cue, the strains of classical music reach his ears. It’s a melody he has heard before, many times in fact. It brings a lump to his throat...one of the few good memories he has left, even if it is bittersweet. The music is coming from down the hall on the right hand side, opposite the one he and Sebastian went down earlier, and Stefano takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and starts walking down the hall. He’ll take a gentle hint from the town over whatever the alternative is.

He moves slowly, cautiously. He’s sure this is a trap, because everything here is a trap. He doesn’t know when it will be sprung, but he can feel it starting to close in around him all the same. The music is the lure, but he doesn’t know whether he is ever intended to reach it or not.

It does get louder as he continues down the hallway, and despite his best efforts, the sound makes his heart beat faster and his legs shake underneath him. It’s an involuntary reaction, and even if he wants to fight it, he is sucked right back into the feeling, the memory of another time, another life. He comes to an open door about halfway down the hall, and he stops in front of it, turning slowly to look in.

The room is dominated by the same bluish glow that he’s been seeing all through the hallways, but in the middle of the room is a table, and on the table is a lamp that emits a pure white light. It’s unnatural, almost jarring to look at, and he’s so focused on it at first that he doesn’t even notice the person seated in a wheelchair next to the table until he has taken a few steps into the room.

He startles when his eye falls on the figure, but it’s a familiar face. Not one that he should be seeing, not one that it makes any sense for him to see, but still a familiar face. Now if only he could be sure about the entity who is wearing it…

Stefano takes a few more steps into the room, bringing him within ten feet of the table and the seated figure, who is gazing at the white light as though transfixed and seems not to have noticed Stefano. He takes a deep breath, fully intending to call this cursed town out on its bullshit, and says, “Haven’t you finished with me?”

The figure turns its head toward him, looks up at him, brown eyes deep and full of mystery as ever, and says, “Actually, I don’t think you’re finished with me.”

“I do not know what you are talking about.” Stefano’s voice is cold. It’s just like this place to present him with dark riddles wrapped in the comfort of a familiar sight.

The face twists into a smile, looks almost as though it might laugh for a second, before the music stops abruptly, and the figure freezes, eyes staring straight ahead, not even drawing breath.

“It’s coming.”

“What?” Stefano says sharply, panic rising up in his chest. “What’s coming?”

“Why don’t you ask your friend?”

“He’s not my-“ Stefano starts to respond, but suddenly the white light is extinguished, and the figure is gone. He is staring at an empty wheelchair.

“Stefano?” Sebastian’s voice comes over the radio, causing Stefano to jump.

He snatches the radio out of his pocket and responds. “Sebastian?”

“Hey, I’m glad you’re back,” Sebastian says in a rush. “I think there’s something in here with me.”

“What do you mean, ‘you think’?” Stefano says.

There is a pause before Sebastian replies in a hushed voice. “There’s definitely something in here with me.”

  
  
  
  
  


Sebastian’s heart is pounding against his chest as he presses himself flush to the wall of the hospital cafeteria, eyes fixed on the double doors that lead into the kitchen area. He holds his breath, strains his ears, and focuses on the footsteps. They are heavy but uneven, as though whatever is making them is stopping and starting its motion at random intervals. Occasionally he catches the sound of something being moved, maybe a cabinet door being opened or closed or a piece of furniture being shifted.

His hand goes to his revolver, just touching the handle to make sure it’s still there. After their last monster encounter, he doesn’t know how much good it will do him, but the feel of it on his hip is still comforting.

Stefano’s voice comes over the radio. “What does it look like? Describe it.” Then, after a pause in a quieter voice. “Is it safe for you to talk?”

Sebastian, who has just had exactly that same thought, turns down the volume on his radio before he replies in a hushed voice. “I think it’s okay for now,” he says. “Just don’t be too loud. And I can’t see it yet. I can just hear it moving around.”

“Avoid it if you can,” Stefano says. “Direct confrontation is rarely effective.”

“Yeah, I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” Sebastian mutters, eyes still trained on the kitchen door. The footsteps sound like they’re getting closer. “That might be a problem.” He glances to his left. “The door I came in through is locked from the other side.”

“How…? Never mind,” Stefano says, and Sebastian feels a tiny twinge of gratitude that Stefano isn’t going to require him to explain this, because he’s not sure he can. He remembers hearing Lily’s voice, Lily’s screams, and he remembers the headlong plunge down poorly lit hallways, tearing across rooms and through doors and over obstacles. He’s a little embarrassed that the town was able to manipulate him so easily, because clearly that’s what was happening, but there is nothing like the blind panic that comes from hearing his child screaming for help.

“Where are you?” Stefano asks, jolting him out of the memory. It’s actually a welcome distraction. He’s starting to sweat again just imagining Lily’s screams.

“In the cafeteria,” Sebastian says, though he’s not sure how that’s going to help either one of them since Silent Hill seems to enforce the laws of physics very loosely.

“Are there any other doors?”

“Just the one that leads to the kitchen,” Sebastian answers. “And that’s where the noise is coming from. Plus it’s a dead end. I was in there a couple minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t see...whatever it is that’s in there now?” Stefano asks.

“No,” Sebastian says, a little irritated, because obviously if he had seen something in there he would have said so. That thought flies out of his brain almost immediately though, because now the footsteps are definitely approaching the door. “It’s coming this way,” he hisses into the radio.

“Hide.”

Sebastian doesn’t have to be told twice. He dashes across the room, taking cover behind a long table that’s been folded up and turned on its end. He squeezes in between the table and the wall, holding his breath to listen as the kitchen doors open with a swooshing sound.

Sebastian waits, hoping against hope that the creature will pass right through this room. It sounds easily large enough to break through the other door. The heavy footsteps resume, and his heart sinks as he realizes it is executing a pattern, actively searching the room, and it is only a matter of time before it finds him.

“It’s searching for me,” he whispers into his radio.

“Can you see it yet?” Stefano whispers back.

Sebastian takes a deep breath, because this is the last thing he wants to do, especially when the footsteps are getting closer every second, but if he is going to come face to face with this thing he might as well have some idea what he’s getting himself into. He leans over to peek around the edge of the table and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

The creature advancing on him now has to be eight or nine feet tall. Its body is draped in some sort of netting, almost like what a hunter might use for camouflage, and it stalks forward on heavy combat boots. Its head is rounded and smooth like a helmet, and as it pauses by one of the other tables, Sebastian spots the red dot of a laser sight moving along the wall and decides the creature must be using it to scan its surroundings.

Almost the second he has that thought, the red dot starts to move along the floor toward him, and the creature is getting even closer. Sebastian ducks back behind the table, hand on his gun again. He’s not sure it’ll do any good, but it’s all he has. He eases it out of the holster and waits as the footsteps draw level with him and stop. He holds his breath, hoping Stefano has the good sense not to call him on the radio right now, as one of the creature’s hands takes hold of the table he is hiding behind.

He hadn’t noticed its hands until now, but they are huge and gnarled. Rotted flesh hangs from them in strips, and each finger ends in a grotesquely long nail. Sebastian takes aim as the table is pulled away from the wall, and he finds himself face to face with the monster. He squeezes the trigger, sees the muzzle flash in the dark room, feels the recoil of the gun in his hand, but the monster has no reaction.

Sebastian is frozen in place, the gunshot still ringing in his ears as the creature stares him down. The laser site runs up and down his body, and Sebastian is sure he is about to be destroyed in some particularly horrible way, but the creature simply releases the table so that it falls back against the wall, turns away, and marches on to the next bank of tables.

Sebastian is dumbfounded. The other monsters they’ve seen here seemed to pursue and attack them on sight, but this one…

“I don’t think it can see me,” he says into the radio, breath still coming hard and fast. “Or hear me. I just shot it point blank and it had no reaction.”

“That is very strange,” Stefano says. “Everything I have met here has been quite hostile.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sebastian says, because despite what just happened, everything about this monster seems hostile, “but it’s definitely searching for something.”

He eases out from behind the table, emboldened by the monster’s apparent indifference to him. He switches on his flashlight to test his theory, and the light reflects off of something he hadn’t noticed before.

“There’s a knife handle sticking out of its chest,” 

  
  
  
  
  


“What?” Stefano has to think for a moment about what Sebastian is saying, but then it all comes back to him in a rush- the unending chase with the invisible pursuer, finding himself with his back to the wall, with no other option but to swing wildly at the air. He remembers burying his knife to the hilt in...something.

“It has a knife stuck in it,” Sebastian repeats. “And it definitely can’t see me, or maybe it just doesn’t care about me. I’m in plain sight right now.”

“It is not looking for you,” Stefano says. “It is looking for me.”

He’s certain that he’s right, both because of his previous experience with what he now knows must have been this monster and because of the words his old companion spoke just a few minutes ago.

“Then we should be okay, right?” Sebastian says. “It’s here in this...dimension with me. Not where you are.”

“I...I don’t know,” Stefano replies. “I don’t know what the rules are for something like this.”

“But you’ve encountered it before, haven’t you? Isn’t that your knife sticking out of it?”

“Yes, at least I think so,” Stefano replies, “but the last time I encountered it, I could not see it.”

“You couldn’t see it, but you could stab it?”

“Apparently,” Stefano says. He releases the button on the radio and is about to continue when Sebastian cuts back in.

“Okay, hold on. I think it’s leaving the room now.”

“I thought you said the door was rusted shut?”

There is a loud sound from the other end of the radio, and Stefano jumps.

“The door’s not stopping him!” Sebastian’s voice sounds a little panicked now. “He just blew it right off the hinges.”

“Be careful!” Stefano says. “Just because it isn’t reacting to you right now does not mean it cannot hurt you.”

“I don’t think it can,” Sebastian says. “I was really close to it just a second ago when the explosion went off, and nothing happened.”

Stefano has another thought. “Isn’t it setting off the static on your radio?”

There is a long pause. “No, it’s not,” Sebastian says. “That’s really weird. I’m less than twenty feet from it. What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Stefano hisses. “I don’t know.”

He is silent for several seconds, turning this over in his mind, trying to compare it to some other situation he’s encountered here, but coming up with nothing. Then his radio hisses with quiet static.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“What is it doing now?”

“It’s moving down the hall toward the door we came in.”

Stefano pauses again. The static on the radio is getting louder, even when neither one of them is transmitting. There is a cold fear settling into his stomach, and he glances up at the door even though he knows there will be nothing there...or at least nothing visible.

Sebastian’s voice is back on the radio again, this time with a note of urgency. “Stefano, what room are you in?”

Stefano has to think about that for a moment. “It would be the right hand hallway from the door we came in,” he says. “Halfway down on the right.”

The static on his radio is even louder now, but Sebastian’s voice cuts through it.

“Hide.”


	8. Stopping Down

Sebastian hasn’t put together all the pieces of this puzzle, but an idea has started to take shape in his mind. The creature is oblivious to him, and it’s not setting off the static on his radio, yet he can see it and hear it. The question that remains is whether it can see or hear Stefano, and more importantly, whether it poses a danger to Stefano.

Stefano’s voice comes over the radio. “I’m hiding,” he says. “What is it doing now?”

“Walking down the hall,” Sebastian replies. He is moving slowly but steadily, maintaining his distance behind the creature. He suspects he could get much closer and it wouldn’t notice him. Hell, he suspects it’s not even on the same plane of existence as he is, but he’s not going to test that theory right now. There is a cold sense of dread settling in his stomach, and he’s gaining certainty in his new theory with every step they take.

This thing isn’t hunting for him. It’s hunting for Stefano, and if the power it showed against the door a minute ago is any indication, they are in a world of trouble if it ever finds him. Sebastian’s ears are still ringing from the explosion, but he remembers vividly what happened. 

The monster had completed its search of the cafeteria and approached the door, then raised its hands up in front of its body as though it intended to push something, but before it even made contact with the door, something shot out of its hands. Sebastian couldn’t see exactly what they were, but they reminded him of the wire leads on his police taser. Six or eight of those wires had stuck to the door, and in the next second the door had been completely blown off its hinges.

Sebastian hadn’t even had time to react, and he was clearly standing in the danger zone for an explosion like that. He’s sure there must have been shards of metal flying all around him, but nothing touched him, and when he opened his eyes, the monster was passing through the door to continue down the hall. He isn’t sure what other abilities it might have, but there is no question this thing has some major destructive power.

“The static is getting louder.”

And now it’s probably heading right for Stefano, and he has no fucking idea what he’s supposed to do about it.

“Can you describe the room you’re in?” Sebastian asks.

“It might be a day room,” Stefano says, “or maybe some kind of recreation area. There are card tables and bookshelves. There’s a table in the middle of the room with a lamp and a wheelchair beside it.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says, taking a deep breath and hastening his stride to move in closer behind the monster. It still doesn’t react to him, but it pauses at the door to a room about halfway down the hall. When it opens the door, Sebastian’s heart sinks.

“Stefano,” he whispers into the radio, afraid the creature might react to Stefano’s radio, even if it doesn’t seem to react to his own. “I think it’s in the room with you.”

Stefano is silent, though Sebastian doesn’t know if it’s from fear or because his radio has stopped working. He follows the creature as it steps into the room.

“Can you see it?” he whispers into the radio. “Can you see me?”

“No and no,” Stefano whispers back. “I see nothing, and I can only hear you and the radio static.”

The panic is rising up in Sebastian’s chest, because he is becoming more and more certain that Stefano is about to be attacked by something against which he has no chance of defending himself. “Where are you hiding?”

“Under a table near the back of the room, the one with a black tablecloth that is almost touching the floor.”

Sebastian looks to the back of the room and sure enough, he sees a table that must be the one Stefano is talking about. He still holds some foolish hope that maybe he can see Stefano under there, but of course he can’t, because Stefano isn’t in the room with him, even though he might be in the room with the monster.

Speaking of the monster, it has begun its search pattern, moving down the right side of the room, lifting up furniture, shifting bookshelves, leaving no stone unturned. Sebastian’s heart is pounding now, because if it keeps up like that, it’s going to find Stefano, and then he isn’t sure what either one of them is going to be able to do to stop it.

“Stefano,” he whispers, voice coming out much calmer than it has any right to under the circumstances. “When I say so, can you come out of there and go where I tell you?”

“Yes,” Stefano says. Sebastian expects more, maybe a question or a cautionary statement that he’d better not fuck this up, but Stefano seems to be placing his faith in him, which is somehow much more terrifying than anything that’s happened yet.

The monster is pulling the couch away from the wall, and Sebastian realizes he can probably tell where it is looking by the laser sight, though he still can’t be sure how wide its field of vision is. When the red dot moves down the wall behind the couch and disappears, he presses the button on the radio and says, “Now. Go to the front corner of the room- behind the armchair.”

He keeps his eyes locked on the monster, then realizes that he doesn’t know whether it can hear Stefano or not. It hasn’t responded to the static from Stefano’s radio so far, but that might be a special case.

“Quietly,” he adds.

  
  
  
  
  


Stefano doesn’t have to think about the answer to Sebastian’s question. “Yes,” he says, doing his best to squash the tremor in his voice.

His heart is racing. He has faced this creature before, has had to run and hide, to fumble blindly in the dark. He has been helpless before, and he never wants to feel that way again. The last time this happened, he was so certain that it was going to find him, that it was going to kill him, that he was never going to see it coming. This time at least he has Sebastian to give him some direction, and he can’t afford to question Sebastian’s plan. There’s just no time.

He can hear the furniture being moved around, and the sound is getting closer. The radio static is so loud that he’s actually dialed the volume down in case this monster can hear it, but it’s still up loud enough for him to hear Sebastian’s next transmission. “Now. Go to the front corner of the room- behind the armchair.”

He doesn’t think. He doesn’t analyze. He just goes, slipping out from under the table and moving stealthily along the wall toward the front of the room. He may not have had formal combat training, but his time with the military did teach him some things about how to get around undetected. The stakes were high then, but they are probably higher now.

He is halfway across the room when he hears Sebastian from the radio, “Shit, he’s-”

He doesn’t hear the explosion. His brain won’t let him. What he hears is white noise- a buzzing like a transformer box in the rain, a steady high-pitched whine like the background noise in an audio recording turned up way too loud. What he sees is a familiar face contorted with terror, mouthing at him to ‘get down’ an instant before his body is riddled with shrapnel. His camera shutter clicks, and the rest is darkness.

He can feel the sand in his mouth, but he can’t speak a word. He can feel the sand in his eyes, but he can’t see a thing. There are footsteps around him, men’s voices shouting, and then the pain hits, a searing impulse that tears through him as though his head is being split open, as though his muscles are being torn from his bones. His hands clench shut and he lets out a kind of strangled cry, but it does nothing to ease his suffering. The darkness may be terrifying, but at least it doesn’t hurt like this, and he lets himself drop back into it.

It is cold here, so cold, and so empty, and there is something in here with him, something that moves about, shuffling from place to place, feeling around for him with its clammy hands. He knows what those hands feel like. He’s touched the hands of dying men, the hands of dead men, and he’s been handled by the coldest and most distant of men himself. He tries to move, to shift even a fraction of an inch, but the darkness weighs heavy on him, and the air is thick.

He tries to draw it into his lungs, but he can’t make them expand enough, can’t take enough in, and he is going to suffocate here. His heart is pounding, and his vision is gone, and the only thing he can hear is the white noise and the horrible, shuffling thing in here with him. His hands are clenched tight again around something- he’s not sure what- and he is gasping, struggling to draw breath. It’s going to find him. He knows it, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

“Stay with me, Stefano. You’re alright.”

It’s a familiar voice, one that coaxes him outside of his own head just a little, enough that he is actively listening for it when it comes again.

“We’re in a bad situation here, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. I’m going to help you if you’ll let me.”

He draws in breath again, and this time it’s a tiny bit easier. He listens again, and the voice returns.

“I’m right here, and we’re going to get through this. It’s me, Stefano. It’s Sebastian.”

Sebastian. He repeats the name in his head, and suddenly the air is rushing back into his lungs. His vision is returning slowly, fading up from black, and he remembers where he is, what is happening. It’s still terrifying of course, but at least now he has some agency, some control over his actions. He is no longer the man he was on the battlefield so many years ago.

He squeezes the radio button. “Sebastian?”

“Yes!” Relief is audible in Sebastian’s voice, and it washes over Stefano as well. “Yes, it’s me. Are you okay to move now?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies. He’s not actually sure if he’s okay to move, but he has to be. Now that he can see more clearly, he realizes that he has somehow made it behind the armchair in the front corner of the room.

“Okay,” Sebastian says. “Go to the door now. You need to get out of this room.”

Stefano doesn’t bother to ask where the monster is or what it’s doing. He has no choice but to trust Sebastian, and he leaves cover immediately and crosses to the door. He is dismayed by what he finds.

“It’s blocked,” he says to Sebastian, “by wire, I think.” The wires are thin but stretched tightly across the door at intervals that won’t allow him to slip through.

“Don’t touch it,” Sebastian says immediately. “It might trigger another explosion.” There is a moment of silence and then he adds, “That bookcase, on the wall to the left of the door. Get behind it.”

Stefano darts behind the bookcase, which has been partially pulled out from the wall.

“I don’t know what to do now,” Sebastian says. “The door looks like it’s open to me.”

“I think I have an idea,” Stefano whispers.

  
  
  
  


While it is encouraging to hear that Stefano has an idea, it does little to relieve the terror that is gripping Sebastian’s heart in its cold fist. The monster is working its way toward the front of the room again. It is, at least, not using its explosives like it did when it blew the door off a cabinet just a minute ago, but it is conducting a thorough search, still looking under and behind and into everything large enough to conceal a person.

Stefano’s reaction to the explosion was troubling as well, but Sebastian doesn’t have time to dwell on that. He needs to get Stefano out of here, and he’s not sure how to do that if Stefano’s version of this door is blocked.

“Okay,” he says into the radio. “What’s your idea?”

Stefano’s voice comes back almost immediately. “I can use the camera again,” he says. “You could tell me when.”

Sebastian has his doubts that the camera is going to solve all of their problems, but it is Stefano’s only weapon at the moment, and Sebastian’s weapons seem to have no effect on this creature. It is also most likely going to require Stefano to get directly into the creature’s line of sight, and Sebastian doesn’t like the sound of that at all.

“That sounds really dangerous,” he says. “Besides, you told me before it was usually better not to engage them.”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Stefano says simply.

Stefano may be right, but Sebastian does have one more hope, which is that this thing will finish its sweep of the room and then leave to go to the next room, the way it did in the kitchen and the cafeteria. Stefano’s new hiding place is past the door, so if it’s going to do that it might miss him entirely. Of course, that assumes that it can leave and isn’t trapped by the wire like Stefano is. It has already made it to the front corner of the room, so it should be at the door momentarily.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m hoping it’s going to leave the room in a few seconds. If it doesn’t, get ready to use the camera.”

“I am ready,” Stefano says. Sebastian draws his gun, because if this camera idea doesn’t work, he has literally no back-up plan besides opening fire on this thing that is apparently impervious to bullets, or at least, to his bullets.

The creature reaches the door again, and Sebastian’s heart sinks as it passes by to start another circuit of the room.

“Coming toward you,” Sebastian says. “Get ready.”

He takes aim, every muscle in his body tense as the creature lays one gnarled hand on the bookshelf Stefano is hiding behind. It leans forward to look behind it and-

“Now!” Sebastian says.

There is a bright flash of light- Sebastian is shocked that he actually sees it- and suddenly the creature is gone, vanished completely before his eyes. He laughs out loud.

“Yes!” he cries into the radio. “It worked! It’s gone!”

There is a split second of violent radio static before Stefano’s voice comes across in an urgent whisper. “No, it isn’t! Run, Sebastian!”

“What about you?” Sebastian asks.

“Run!” Stefano shouts.

His tone leaves no room for interpretation, and Sebastian turns, intending to hurl himself through the doorway, but skids to a halt when he sees that it is, as Stefano described, blocked by wires.

“Get away from the door,” Stefano instructs, and Sebastian leaps backward not a moment too soon. He hears the explosion go off and brings his arms up to shield his face, which turns out to be a good idea, because this time he is getting pelted with rubble, though fortunately nothing large enough to do lasting injury.

“Armchair side of the room,” Stefano says, and Sebastian, who is still a little dazed from the loud noise and disoriented by all of the dust hanging in the air, does his best to comply. 

“I think you should be able to get out now,” Stefano says. “Check the door.”

Sebastian moves back toward the door, stifling a cough at the great lungful of dust he just inhaled. He only just has time to see that the door- and part of the wall- has been blown away before Stefano’s voice is back on the radio. “Get out, Sebastian! Now!”

Still half blind and choking on dust, he throws himself forward through the doorway. He can hear another explosion in the room behind him, followed by what sounds suspiciously like fire from an automatic rifle, but he’s not focused on that so much as sprinting down the hall and diving around a corner.

“What the hell is going on?” he hisses into the radio.

“If I was to make an educated guess,” Stefano replies breathlessly. “I would say that now I can see it, and it can see you.”

“Fuck,” Sebastian mutters. The gunfire has stopped now, but the static is still blaring from his radio. He turns it down and strains his ears. He has no idea if the creature saw which way he went, but he might not have very long to react.

“It turned left out of the room,” Stefano says. “It’s coming down the hall.”

Sebastian creeps forward, turning the next corner in hopes of putting a little more distance between himself and this monster, because it does sound like it’s behind him.

“I think it’s following me,” he says to Stefano. “What the hell do I do now?”

“I don’t know!” Stefano snaps.

“Well what is it doing?” Sebastian snaps back.

“It’s about to turn right,” Stefano says. “Back toward the entrance hall.”

“Got it,” Sebastian says. “I’m in the corridor we started in. The one with the electrical box.”

“Alright,” Stefano says. “Don’t go into any dead-end rooms. Maybe you can just keep circling in this hallway. Does it make a complete loop?”

“I think so,” Sebastian says, walking hurriedly down the hall. He thinks he’s heading toward the cafeteria again, but it’s hard to tell when all of the corridors and doors look the same. “I got a little turned around when the siren went off and then again after that.”

“It’s heading your way,” Stefano says. “Get around the next corner.”

“Done,” Sebastian says, turning the corner. Then, “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“What is it?”

“There’s another gate here. Like the one at the front door,” Sebastian groans. “How is this even possible? I just came through here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stefano says. “Are there any other doors? You need to do something. He’s coming.”

Sebastian’s eyes fall on the only other option in this part of the hallway. It is a pair of large metal sliding doors. They look like they’d be too heavy to move, but they are standing slightly ajar.

“Just one,” he says.

“Use it.”

  
  
  
  


Stefano leans against the wall for support as he follows the creature down the hallway. The explosion it set off in order to exit the last room they were in took a toll on his nerves, and he is certain that if he did not have a very specific task to accomplish, he would have retreated inside his mind the way he did a few minutes before.

Even now, part of him wants to do that, but if he succumbs to the urge then Sebastian will have no hope of escaping from this...thing. As much as Stefano hated fumbling in the dark, he is not sure that knowing what this monster looks like has improved matters at all. It is truly terrifying, like a child’s nightmare about war come to life, and he would just as soon never see it again. But every time he hesitates, every time the stress makes his stomach churn and his old wounds ache, he thinks of Sebastian.

Sebastian put himself in danger to help Stefano, and now Stefano needs to do the same for him. He follows the monster down the hall. It is pausing by each door as it passes, but it isn’t entering any rooms this time. He wonders if it has some more sophisticated way of searching for its target, like infrared or night vision. He’s seen both in action, but neither one would seem to quite explain what this creature is doing.

Sebastian’s voice on the radio makes him jump. “This room doesn’t go anywhere,” he says. “It’s like an isolation cell or...wait, it’s not a room. It’s an elevator.”

“Then go to another floor,” Stefano hisses, thinking that some of the instructions he’s giving Sebastian should be obvious, but of course Sebastian hasn’t displayed the best judgment on several previous occasions.

“I can’t,” Sebastian shoots back, panic in his voice. “There’s no power.”

Stefano’s stomach turns over, because the monster is now approaching the last corner, the one that will take it right to Sebastian, and it sounds like Sebastian has hit a dead end.

“Is there an access panel in the ceiling?” Stefano asks desperately. “Can you climb out that way?”

“No,” Sebastian says frantically. “It’s not opening!”

The creature turns the corner, and Stefano is right behind it. He can see the door to the elevator, which is standing open, except that unless his eye is deceiving him, the car isn’t on this floor. The space behind the doors is a black void, an empty shaft, but he knows that in the other version of the building, Sebastian is in there.

His mouth is dry and his heart is pounding and his muscles lock up because this situation is out of his control. There is nothing he can do to help, and he’s just going to have to stand by and watch Sebastian die the same way he has watched so many men die in the past. The same way he watched  _ him _ die...watching the world go by through his camera lens.

The memory sets an idea in motion in his mind, and he makes a split second decision. He can’t give up. He can’t freeze up. Sebastian needs him. There is something he can do, and he has to do it now before he thinks too much about the likely consequences of his actions.

He pulls the camera from his pocket, takes aim and snaps a picture. The creature vanishes from sight, as he predicted, but that’s not what gets his attention.

The camera flash lights up the empty elevator shaft, and for a split-second, Stefano sees Sebastian standing there before he drops out of sight.

In the next moment, Stefano is engulfed by the explosion- awash in the noise and the flying shrapnel and blinded by dust and sand. The floor beneath him is crumbling, and he is falling too, camera still clutched tightly in his hand.

It’s sensory overload, and he allows himself to break from reality, to retreat inside his mind. It doesn’t matter now anyway. He has done what he could to save Sebastian, and he is so tired of running, so tired of hiding. The darkness is welcome this time.

_ “Just find as many pieces as you can. It’s not like he’s gonna have an open casket or anything.” _

_ “Hey, this one’s still alive.” _

_ “Who? The photographer?” _

_ “Yeah, he’s got a pulse. Looks pretty torn up though.” _

_ “Hang on. I’ll get a medic.” _


	9. An Understanding

_ “It’s all here, Sebastian.” Myra’s eyes bore into his own, daring him to look away as she pushes a file folder across the kitchen table at him. “It’s all here, and none of it adds up.” _

_ Her eye twitches, the only hint of the grieving mother behind the perfectly smooth façade. _

_ “Myra.” He places his hand on hers on top of the folder. “I understand how much work you’ve put into this- I really do- but Lily is dead. I know that, and you know that, and there’s nothing we can do to change it.” _

_ Myra’s face is hard. “If that’s what you truly believe, then we have nothing left to discuss.” She slides her hand and the folder out from under his. _

_ He is still standing there at the kitchen table when she walks out the door. In a way, he will always be standing there. _

****  
  


Sebastian opens his eyes in the darkness, tries to sit up, and regrets it immediately. Every single part of his body is throbbing, and he collapses back to the cement floor under him with a groan.

“Sebastian?”

Stefano’s voice sounds muffled, but it’s nearby, and, even more promising, it’s not coming through the radio this time.

“I’m right here,” he replies. Or at least he tries to. He manages to get the words out, but his mouth is as dry as sandpaper, and his lungs feel like they are full of dust. His throat spasms in a violent coughing fit, which aggravates his already aching ribs. He claps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to suppress the coughing. It’s moderately successful, but once he has control over himself, he is afraid to try to speak again, so he just ends up lying on the floor feeling miserable.

“Are you alright?” Stefano asks.

Sebastian swallows a few times as he prepares to answer, but it doesn’t feel like he’s generating enough saliva to soothe his throat at all. “Depends on how you define ‘alright’,” he says finally. His voice comes out strained, but at least he doesn’t start coughing this time. He doesn’t feel alright at all, but he hasn’t felt alright in a long time.

Stefano seems to be more focused on his immediate condition. “Are you injured?” he prompts.

“Not sure,” Sebastian replies, “but I feel like I got hit by a bus. What the hell happened?”

“I think you fell down an elevator shaft,” Stefano says, sounding unusually calm for someone relaying that kind of information. “I have some theories, though I am more concerned about you. Can you move?”

“Just give me a minute,” Sebastian says, mildly irritated now because even the prospect of moving is painful. “Everything hurts, and it’s kind of hard to breathe.”

“Take it one piece at a time,” Stefano advises. “Can you move the fingers on your right hand?”

Sebastian sets his annoyance aside for a moment, tries to move his fingers, and finds that he can. “Yes.”

“What about your right arm?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, stifling a grunt as he raises his arm from the floor, “but it hurts.”

Stefano’s voice is utterly calm, and Sebastian can’t decide whether that is soothing or obnoxious. “You have suffered some injuries in your line of work, I am sure. Does it feel like a serious injury or a superficial one?”

Sebastian moves his arm around experimentally, the bandage on it reminding him that this arm was already injured when they arrived at the hospital. It still hurts, but it feels manageable, maybe because it’s just one arm he’s moving. “Superficial,” he says. “Scrapes and bruises, no broken bones.”

“Are you able to see?” Stefano asks. “Are you bleeding?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies. “It’s pitch black in here, and I’m not sure where my flashlight is.” That thought sparks another one. “Where are you?”

“I think I am just on the other side of the door from you,” Stefano says. “I cannot be sure, but I can hear your voice through the door, not on the radio.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sebastian says. The tension of the last half-hour has left an icy knot in his stomach that still hasn’t fully dissipated. The thought of being blasted into oblivion by the monster is only slightly less terrifying than the thought that he almost failed to protect someone else from it. If he has managed to find his way back to Stefano, he’s going to make damn sure they don’t get split up again. He doesn’t get a chance to find out if Stefano is feeling the same way, because Stefano is all business.

“What about the fingers of your left hand?” he asks.

Sebastian follows his prompting through a full body check, during which they determine that he is pretty banged up and in a lot of pain but that he seems to have sustained no serious injuries during the fall. He also manages to sit up, though his muscles loudly protest the change in position, and locate his flashlight, which is miraculously still functioning. Casting the beam of light around, he can see that he is in a small roughly square area with metal work running up the walls. There are also some metal fixtures on the floor around him that he’s damn lucky he didn’t hit when he fell.

“Stefano?” he says.

“Yes?”

Stefano’s voice does sound like it’s coming from the metal doors that sit a few feet off the ground just to his right.

“Found my flashlight. I’m definitely at the bottom of an elevator shaft,” he says. “And it sounds like you’re on the other side of the doors.”

He’s aware that he’s telling Stefano at least two things Stefano already knows, but after the chaos of trying to navigate two different versions of the same building a few minutes ago, he figures it’s probably still useful to Stefano to know that what each of them is seeing matches up, at least for now.

“Can you get the doors open?” he asks.

“No,” Stefano replies. “I tried opening them manually from this side, but I could not make any progress.”

“Does the elevator have power?” Sebastian asks. “Did you try pushing the button?”

“I am not sure, and absolutely not,” Stefano replies. He pauses, then adds, “I am no mechanic, but I think calling it to this floor would lead to your untimely death.”

This revelation strikes Sebastian as both alarming and, thanks to Stefano’s dry delivery, kind of hilarious. He starts to laugh, but it quickly turns into another coughing fit.

When he finally gets himself back under control, Stefano says, “You have a strange sense of humor, Sebastian,” but Sebastian can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s smiling. “If you are feeling up to it, we could try to open the door together.”

Despite his pain, Sebastian is up for anything that will get him out of this elevator shaft. He’s not claustrophobic exactly, but being in a small space under the looming threat of being crushed to death is not exactly his idea of a good time. “Yeah,” he says, forcing himself to his feet with a grunt of pain. “Let’s try it.”

“Take it easy,” Stefano says from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine,” Sebastian replies quickly. “Just want to get out of here.”

He sets his flashlight up so that it illuminates the doors and moves over to them, working his fingers into the crack in the center as much as he can. “I’m going to try on the left hand one,” he says.

“Understood.” Stefano’s voice is tantalizingly close this time.

Sebastian counts to three, then pulls on the door as hard as he can. His body screams in protest, but the doors don’t budge an inch. Two more tries don’t produce any better result.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Just let me rest for a second.”

“I think we may need to re-evaluate our strategy,” Stefano says.

Sebastian isn’t sure what about this needs re-evaluating, as it’s pretty clear that his only way out of here is through those doors. He retrieves his flashlight and shines the beam up the shaft. He can see the bottom of the elevator car, which he estimates is two floors above him. The sight of it jogs his memory.

“Stefano,” he says, “what happened right before I ended up down here? I remember actually being in the elevator car.”

“Yes,” Stefano says. “You were in the elevator when I used my camera on the monster.”

“Oh, is that what you did?” Sebastian asks. “But the camera wasn’t working on this monster, right? I mean the first time you tried it in that room…” He pauses, trying to come up with words to describe what happened when Stefano used the camera, but it only makes the pounding in his head worse. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time getting my brain around this right now.”

“That is quite understandable,” Stefano says. “I was rather confused at first, but I have had more time to think about it while you were...indisposed.” Sebastian isn’t sure if this is a polite way of saying ‘unconscious’, but before he can comment, Stefano continues.

“When I used the camera the first time, I was quite alarmed to see the monster that has been chasing me all this time. Prior to that, I had only seen its effects on the environment. At first, I thought that what I had done with the camera was to somehow transport it from one version of the building to the other, but then I realized that being able to see the monster was not the only thing that had changed in the room I was in.”

Sebastian’s head is still throbbing, but he thinks he might be catching on now. “The door wasn’t blocked anymore.”

“Yes,” Stefano says. “Now, I think the monster was only ever in one version of the building-”

“-but only visible in the other,” Sebastian finishes.

“Exactly,” Stefano says. “Apparently up until now I had never been in the correct version of the building to actually see it.”

“So the camera was flipping which version of the building you were in?” Sebastian asks. It sounds insane, but so does everything else that’s happened in the last half hour or so.

“Yes,” Stefano says, “and which version you were in as well. Otherwise we would have seen each other. Although I suppose if we had both ended up in the same version, it would have been much harder to avoid the monster.”

“Right. That thing was fucking terrifying,” Sebastian says. 

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Stefano says, “which is why I used the camera again when it had you cornered in the elevator.”

“And that switched me to the version of the building where the elevator wasn’t on this floor?”

“It would seem so,” Stefano says. “My apologies for the fall. I intended to take its focus off of you, not to injure you in the process.”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian says dismissively. “But what happened after you used the camera the second time?” He realizes with dawning horror that after he fell Stefano would have been left alone with a monster he couldn’t see. “Did it come after you? Are you okay?”

“At that point I could no longer see the creature,” Stefano replies. “So I am not sure exactly what happened, but there was an explosion. I...I may have lost consciousness. As you have probably noticed, I find those kinds of events...difficult to tolerate, but the next thing I remember was being where I am now, which I assume is the basement.”

Sebastian has noticed Stefano’s difficulty in dealing with the explosions. In fact, he’s pretty sure he had to talk him through some sort of panic attack when he was trapped in the room with the creature before. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes.”

“When you were working as a war photographer, how close did you get to combat?”

“Quite close.” Stefano’s tone is clipped, and he doesn’t elaborate on his answer.

It makes perfect sense that someone who was so close to combat, who probably saw other men die, would have some post-traumatic stress related to that. Sebastian has seen it happen more times than he can count at work. Even seasoned officers and detectives carry a lot of their past with them, and it’s surprising what seemingly insignificant event can put them right back into that frame of mind.

The silence is getting uncomfortable, and Sebastian feels like he needs to say something. “You know, it’s pretty common to have some lingering stress reactions after that kind of experience, right? It’s a totally normal response-”

“I don’t want to hear about how ‘normal’ it is,” Stefano interrupts. “I just want it to stop.”

Even though his voice is muffled by the doors between them, his tone touches something in Sebastian. He sounds desperate, exhausted, in his own kind of pain, and Sebastian can’t control the rush of sympathy that wells up inside him. He’s been analyzed and reassured a hundred times, and he also just wants it to stop.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“I am also tired of hearing that,” Stefano replies.

“No, hear me out on this one,” Sebastian says. “I  _ am _ sorry about what happened, but mostly I’m sorry about what I said before, you know, before we got separated. I guess when you said you were a war photographer, I didn’t really consider the ‘war’ part.”

There is a pause and then Stefano laughs. “It is literally in the job title,” he says, but the tension of a moment ago is gone.

“I know,” Sebastian says. There’s a smile spreading across his own face now that he knows he has at least made Stefano laugh. “Sometimes I’m not the best listener.”

He meant it as a joke, but it hits home for him. Myra used to say he didn’t listen. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but it just seemed like even when he did listen to her, he didn’t hear what she was actually saying. It may be too late to fix anything with her, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to keep making the same mistake over and over again.

“Seriously, I’m sorry,” he says. “I used to work a job that required me to make a lot of quick decisions about people, and sometimes I still do that, and sometimes those decisions are just wrong.”

“I believe we all do that to some extent,” Stefano replies. “But as long as you are prepared to modify your opinion of me based on new information…”

“Of course,” Sebastian says, “I-”

He is cut off by the groan of metal under stress, and in the beam of his flashlight, he can see the elevator doors open a couple of inches. Stefano’s face- or at least part of it- quickly appears in the opening.

“Hey!” Sebastian exclaims. “I can see you!” He is unexpectedly relieved to actually lay eyes on Stefano again, though he knows by now that things aren’t always what they seem here. “Can you see me?”

“No,” Stefano says. “Your flashlight is shining right in my face.”

“Oh,” Sebastian says, grabbing the flashlight and positioning it so that it shines across the door at more of an angle. “How about now?”

“Yes,” Stefano says, “I can see you.”

“Do you think the power came on or something? Why did the doors open?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, but let’s try to get them open some more so you can get out of there.”

Stefano has a point, but the space between the doors is barely enough for him to put his hand and wrist through, much less his entire body. He takes hold of the door again, and he and Stefano pull on it vigorously for a few seconds. It doesn’t move an inch.

“I feel like the building is just taunting us now,” Sebastian says.

“Possibly,” Stefano says.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” Sebastian asks. “While you’ve been in town, I mean.”

“I have seen many things,” Stefano replies. “This town seems to feed on negative emotions- fear and pain, grief and rage- and unfortunately I have given it quite a lot of material to work with.”

“I...uh...might be giving it some fuel as well,” Sebastian says, lowering himself to sit down next to the opening with his back to the door. He heaves a sigh. This isn’t exactly a topic he wants to take on now, but they seem to be stuck here for the moment. “I know I carry some things with me from my job...and from my life. When I was talking about stress reactions before…”. 

He struggles with his words for a moment before Stefano offers, “You were speaking from experience?”

“Yes,” he says, relieved that he doesn’t have to articulate it. “It’s not something I talk about very much, and I can’t say that I know exactly what you’re going through, but it’s...familiar to me.”

“I would imagine that at your job you saw many terrible things and your fair share of danger as well.”

“Yes,” Sebastian says, “but it wasn’t just that. It was dealing with such horrible people every day. I worked violent crime for almost ten years, and it’s just not something you ever get used to.”

Sebastian raises his hands to massage his temples. The pounding in his head is intensifying at even the vague memories of his job- responding to a 911 call to find a frantic victim, sitting down to interview some of the most vile people he can imagine, and having to condense it all into his police report.

He shudders. Writing reports was the part he hated most of all. When he was actively engaged in an investigation, he simply reacted to events as they happened, relying on his training and his instincts to guide him. Later, after all of the action was over, he would be left to reflect on the case, to summarize it into a neat package for the District Attorney’s Office. Those reports still play over and over in his mind, like a song he can’t get out of his head, and they come up at the worst times.

“Are there things you regret?” Stefano asks. His casual tone belies the serious nature of the question. “Things you would have done differently?”

Sebastian has to think about that one for a moment. “Not at my job,” he says. “What got to me about it wasn’t so much anything I did or didn’t do. It was just the state of the world.”

He knows he probably hasn’t actually answered Stefano’s question, but it’s going in a very personal direction, even for a conversation that was already pretty deep. He waits, and Stefano asks the obvious follow-up question.

“And what about at home?”

Sebastian sighs deeply before he responds. “At home...at home I made mistakes. I wasn’t there when I should have been- not just the one time it really mattered either. And when I was there, I still wasn’t there, if that makes any sense.”

“Perhaps,” Stefano says, “but your family was clearly very important to you.”

“Yes,” Sebastian says emphatically. “They were...they are.”

“But something kept you from them?”

“The job,” Sebastian says, remembering shift after shift where he would get home late or retreat to his office to keep working on a case file or call to ask their nanny to stay an extra hour or two so he could finish something up. “I just couldn’t ever turn it off. I always felt like if I could just close the case I was working on, then I’d have time for family stuff tomorrow.”

“And what happened?” Stefano asks.

“I guess I ran out of tomorrows,” Sebastian says. Talking about it brings the hollow feeling back to his chest. “With both of them.”

The scrape of metal sounds again, and Sebastian jumps forward as he feels the door behind him start to move. When he turns back to look at it, he can see that it’s open a little more than before- still not enough for him to squeeze through, but at least another couple of inches. The timing of it is...suspicious.

“I’m starting to think this door is not opening by coincidence,” Sebastian says dryly.

“I think very little in this town happens by coincidence,” Stefano replies.

“Do you think we just need to keep talking?” Sebastian asks. “Is that what’s making it happen?”

“I suspect it is something like that,” Stefano says.

“Can I ask you something then?”

“You can try.” Stefano’s tone is guarded, as though he knows what’s coming next.

“Were you close to anyone you met in the military?”

There is a pause while Sebastian waits for Stefano to answer, but after a second or two of silence, the elevator doors suddenly slam shut.

“Stefano?” Sebastian calls out.

“I am still here.”

“Do you think I said something wrong? Should I not have asked that?” Sebastian isn’t sure what just happened, but clearly it’s a setback of some kind.

“Perhaps,” Stefano says, “but I think it is more likely that it happened because I am disinclined to answer that question.”

“Oh,” Sebastian says. “Should I ask something else?”

“I suppose so,” Stefano says, “thought if the intention of this scenario is for me to pour my heart out to you, then you should know that is very unlikely to happen.”

“That’s alright,” Sebastian says. “The bottom of this elevator shaft isn’t so bad once you get used to it.” It’s not a particularly good attempt at humor, but he needs to diffuse the tension. Confiding in others doesn’t seem to come easily to Stefano, and he already sounds exhausted. “You don’t have to pour your heart out to me, but maybe you can tell me a little bit about yourself.” He casts about in his mind for a subject that will be informative, but not too personal. “Why did you decide to work as a war photographer?”

“It was supposed to be a compromise,” Stefano replies. “My father very much wanted me to follow in his footsteps and those of his father and become a soldier, but modern warfare has never held any interest for me. It is all function and no form. There is no art to it.”

Lack of art is kind of a strange criticism to have about war, but Sebastian can’t help but smile, because it seems appropriate for Stefano, or at least what Sebastian knows of Stefano.

“I would just as soon have spent my days in the studio. Everything...made sense there.” He pauses, then continues, sounding a little agitated. “Out in the field there are too many variables- distractions, changes in lighting. I can hardly control the composition of a shot at all, but at least I was working with my camera, and that was something.”

“Who were you actually working for?” Sebastian asks, suddenly realizing he doesn’t have a very good understanding of what this job actually entails.

“Various media outlets,” Stefano replies. “It was more of a freelance situation. I lived in the barracks and shadowed the troops, photographed the things that interested me, and then sold them to newspapers and magazines.”

“Wow, so you really did get the soldier experience,” Sebastian comments. From what he’s seen of Stefano so far, it’s hard to imagine him living the life of a soldier.

“Indeed,” Stefano says, “it was...primitive to say the least, but I can honestly say that I did not mind it at the time. I was ready for a change.”

“How did you feel about the...uh...subject matter of your pictures?”

“For a while, I was quite indifferent,” Stefano says. “As I am sure you know, one can become used to almost anything with enough exposure.”

“You can be used to something but still affected by it,” Sebastian offers.

“Of course,” Stefano replies, “but for quite some time that effect was less pronounced. A war zone is a hard place to live, but it is not entirely devoid of humanity. There were lighter moments and new experiences, so it was not all death and destruction.”

“Really?” Sebastian asks, now genuinely curious about Stefano’s time on the front lines. He has no military experience of his own to draw from. “What kind of lighter moments?”

There is a long silence from the other side of the door. “I should not have said anything,” Stefano says after a while. “Perhaps this was a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

“I mean that those moments are almost as painful to talk about as the battles.”


	10. Overexposed

“We’re just going to sit here forever unless one of us starts talking,” Sebastian says from the other side of the door.

“Would that be so terrible?” Stefano asks. “We are safe here, relatively speaking.” He doesn’t want to put too much faith in that idea, but after the heart-pounding action upstairs, this dark basement seems tame by comparison.

“I guess so, but we’re not making any progress,” Sebastian points out. “We’re just kind of stuck here.”

“I doubt this town has the same understanding of ‘progress’ as you do,” Stefano says with a deep sigh. “To speak of progress assumes we have some sort of goal.”

“I do,” Sebastian insists. “To get out of here.”

Stefano’s first reaction is to shake his head with a faint smile, but then he remembers that Sebastian can’t see him and probably wouldn’t care if he could. He supposes that on some level, he also wants to get out of Silent Hill, but he is much more realistic about their chances of doing so. It is interesting though to see Sebastian take a firm stance on his own survival. He wonders if he can use Sebastian’s newfound sense of self-preservation to their advantage.

“Do you want to get out of here enough to answer another question?”

Stefano by now has a pretty good idea of what it’s going to take to get that door open, and he’s not strong enough to do it by himself. There will have to be some give and take if this is going to work.

There is a long pause, and Stefano can imagine Sebastian’s face as he realizes what he’s gotten himself into. “Alright,” he says. “Just be gentle.”

They both laugh a little at that, though Stefano thinks it’s an apt observation. This kind of exploration of someone’s mind is just as likely to uncover delicate areas as anything physical.

“What was your most challenging case?” Stefano asks.

“Most challenging how?” Sebastian says hopefully. “Like the hardest to solve?”

“No,” Stefano replies, although that might also make for an interesting story. “The one that took the greatest toll on you personally.”

There is another pause, and for a moment Stefano fears that Sebastian will refuse to answer, but then Sebastian says, “It wasn’t just one case. It was basically every sexual assault case.”

“Really?” Stefano asks, surprised. “But you also investigated murders, did you not?”

“Yes, murder, robbery, arson, malicious wounding, all of that,” Sebastian replies, “but the ones that stuck with me were the rape cases.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“I-“ Sebastian begins. “This is going to sound really stupid…”

Stefano is aching to point out that a man who didn’t consider that a war photographer might have been in a war probably doesn’t need to worry about looking stupid, but he simply waits in silence, because he is also desperately curious to find out what keeps Sebastian up at night if not memories of dead bodies.

“So, I obviously saw a lot of violence,” Sebastian says, “and it was terrible and shocking and I never wanted it to happen in my city, but it was separate from my personal life, if that makes any sense. I could compartmentalize it, put it in a box, leave it in my office, and that worked out okay for a while, because there was never any violence in our home.”

Sebastian pauses for long enough that Stefano says, “I am not sure I see where this is going.”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian says quickly. “Like I said, it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but because violence was never part of my life, it stayed at work, but the sexual stuff didn’t.”

“Are you suggesting that you-?” Stefano begins, but Sebastian cuts him off immediately.

“No. Never.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “I know you don’t know me that well, but I would never...I’m not capable of anything like that.”

“My apologies,” Stefano says. “Please continue.”

“It just made it really difficult to do any...you know, intimate stuff. I’d spend all day interviewing people and writing reports, and then I’d go home to Myra, but if things got more than just a little affectionate, like more than a kiss, I’d just have these reports playing over and over in my head. I mean, that’s crazy, right? I was with my wife who loved me and was definitely very...interested in what we were doing, but I just could not get it through my head that this was okay.”

Stefano is listening, but he also remembers. Sebastian’s words stir up a flurry of feelings- lust and excitement and fear and doubt. He may not understand this particular quirk of Sebastian’s, but he is familiar with the idea that who he is, what he wants, is somehow wrong.

“That’s crazy though, right?” Sebastian repeats. “It’s just like something’s wrong with my brain even though I know rationally that everything’s fine.”

“It does not sound so strange to me,” Stefano says thoughtfully. “And if it was distressing to you, then I doubt everything was ‘fine’.”

“It was at first though,” Sebastian insists. “It was just me getting upset for no reason, but then it actually started causing problems. Myra kind of took it personally that I was so...distracted, and I couldn’t convince her that it was just me being stupid. I think in the long run it really hurt her that I was like that, but I didn’t know what to do. I know that’s not why she left, but I know it didn’t help.”

The elevator doors slide open a few inches with a groan of old metal parts scraping against each other, and Stefano leans forward a little to let them move freely before he sits back to rest against the door again.

Sebastian is quiet, and Stefano has no idea what to say in this kind of situation. He feels blank, numb somehow even though he knows Sebastian has just confessed something very intimate and very personal. He can’t relate to it because he won’t allow himself to experience any of those emotions. That part of himself is dead- well, maybe not dead, but set aside on a shelf somewhere...compartmentalized, as Sebastian says.

“I feel like we’re having to make a sacrifice to open this door,” Sebastian says dryly from the other side. His voice is much clearer now, and Stefano can hear that he sounds tired, almost sad. It is also not lost on him that Sebastian is the only one who has really made a sacrifice so far. It is not a sacrifice of blood or tissue as one might expect in this town, but one of memories, pain, cracks in the facades they have put on for each other.

“Alright,” Stefano breathes. “Ask me something.”

During the next few seconds of silence, Stefano’s own heart is beating so loudly he can hardly hear anything else, but then Sebastian asks, “What’s the most important picture you ever took?”

Stefano pauses for a moment, his mind turning the question over, because if there was one thing he did not expect Sebastian to ask about, it would be his art. It’s also a difficult question to answer, as there are many ways to interpret ‘most important’, except that if he is honest with himself- and he is sure that is what the town requires- there is only one answer.

“The last photo I took when I was with the military,” he says. “It was not one I had planned. Some of the soldiers and I were sitting around, trying to take advantage of a few moments in the shade. I am still not sure exactly what happened. I never saw the enemy approach, but a grenade rolled into the middle of our circle.”

“Holy shit,” Sebastian says, as though he can’t help himself. Then, “I’m sorry. Go on.”

“That was basically our reaction as well,” Stefano says. He’s aware that his voice has gone a bit flat. His eye has slipped out of focus as the scene plays out in front of him all over again- the shouts of the other men, the look of complete panic on his companion’s face, the words his mouth formed as the white noise blared inside Stefano’s head.

“I do not know what made me do it,” Stefano says, “but I reacted by raising my camera. I snapped the picture just as the grenade detonated.” He remembers that moment so well. It is burned into his brain, and it will never leave him- a snapshot in a whirlwind of activity. He vaguely recalls the noise, the blur of movement around him, the smell of gunpowder, but in that moment, everything was perfectly still- the sand hanging in the air along with fragments of metal, the feeling of the camera in his hands...and Andre, one foot in life and one in death, standing in front of him.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian says again. “You must have been...You were.”

“Yes,” Stefano agrees. “I was injured quite badly as you have seen.”

“Oh my god,” Sebastian breathes.

“Yes, I know,” Stefano says flatly, because even Sebastian doesn’t seem to be able to hide his horror at the state of Stefano’s face. And he hasn’t even seen the rest of his body. “I am aware of the effect it has on people.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Sebastian says. “It just looks like it was really painful.”

“Well, yes, it was,” Stefano replies. “But surely that is not so unique. You have been shot before, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, I have,” Sebastian says, “and it sucked.”

Stefano laughs in spite of himself. “I was going to describe it as ‘excruciating’,” he says, “but I supposed ‘sucked’ works just as well.”

Sebastian laughs too, then his voice softens and he says, “And your eye was…?”

“Damaged beyond repair,” Stefano finishes. “Even with state of the art medicine, it would have been unsalvageable, and in the field hospital I was lucky to survive at all.”

“Did it change the way you take pictures?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano pauses, taking several deep breaths before he answers, “Sebastian, it changed everything.”

The elevator doors slide open a few more inches.

“Stefano, I think I can-“ Sebastian exclaims, and in the next moment he is squeezing in between the two doors. After a couple of seconds of grunts and muttered obscenities, he staggers out into the hallway next to Stefano, the beam of his flashlight dancing wildly on the floor and walls. “Made it!” He says triumphantly before he sinks to the ground next to Stefano.

Sebastian’s eyes fall on his face in the faint light from the flashlight, which is pointing at the opposite wall. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Was there something else you were going to say?”

“No,” Stefano replies. He considers pointing out that he didn’t particularly want to say anything in the first place, but the town didn’t really leave them with that option. 

“Can I ask you something else?” Sebastian says. 

“Very well,” Stefano says with a sigh. The intensity, both physical and emotional, of recent events is starting to catch up with him, and he feels suddenly quite tired.

“Never mind,” Sebastian says. “Do you want to just rest for a minute?”

“Yes,” Stefano says, “though I do not think that precludes you asking me a question.” He lets his head fall back to the door behind him.

“Only if it’s alright with you,” Sebastian says. “I don’t want to pry.”

“Go ahead,” Stefano says. Sebastian’s mere physical presence next to him is already making him feel calmer than before, and Sebastian’s questions have been tolerable so far.

“Does it still hurt?” Sebastian asks.

“It aches from time to time,” Stefano replies. “They could not remove all of the shrapnel, so sometimes it does cause me some discomfort, but nothing too terrible.” To be honest, it’s the least of his worries. There are other parts of his past that cause him so much more pain.

Sebastian is quiet for a moment before he asks, “Do you want me to look around and see if there’s somewhere you can lie down for a few minutes? I mean, it’s a hospital. There should be a bed somewhere.”

Stefano is painfully aware of the risk he is running, of not wanting to appear weak in front of Sebastian, but he is simply too tired to care. Of course, he is also terrified of Sebastian getting out of his sight again. “I will come with you,” he says, pushing himself shakily to his feet. “But yes, it would be nice to rest even for a short while.”

Sebastian gets up with a groan, and Stefano suddenly remembers that his companion has taken a significant fall in the recent past. “What about you?” He asks. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sebastian says. “Just getting a little too old to take that kind of hit.”

He starts off down the hallway, panning his flashlight back and forth to illuminate the space ahead of them.

“How old are you?” Stefano asks.

“Thirty-eight,” Sebastian replies, “but it’s been a long thirty-eight years if you know what I mean.” Stefano does know. The last few...days?...weeks?...whatever it has been that he’s spent in Silent Hill has seemed longer than the entirety of his life before it.

“What about you?” Sebastian asks.

“Twenty-eight,” Stefano replies, “and also feeling like I have aged quite a bit more than that recently.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian says. He stops as the beam of his flashlight falls on a half-open door. He glances at Stefano, who nods. It’s a risk of course. Any new room, any new space, could lead to danger, but it’s a risk they’ll have to take in order to have any chance of escape.

Stefano holds his breath as Sebastian reaches the door, flashlight in one hand and gun in the other. He peeks through the opening, then nudges the door open with his shoulder, sweeping the room with the light before he relaxes his shoulders and turns back to Stefano. “Looks alright.”

Stefano follows as Sebastian steps into the room, and ‘alright’ must be a relative term, because there is something distinctly off about this room. There is no obvious danger, and the rusty bed frame with its worn mattress is in keeping with the general state of disrepair in the hospital, but somehow it doesn’t feel like this could have ever been a real hospital room.

Sebastian voices his concerns as eloquently as only Sebastian can. “This feels weird.”

“There is no window,” Stefano points out.

“We’re in the basement.”

“But why are there even patient rooms down here?” Stefano presses. “Shouldn’t this be a storage area?” The dark, windowless room with peeling paint on the walls and its sparse furniture certainly feels more like a storage area than anything else.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies. “It is kind of creepy.” He is standing still now, eyes slowly roaming over the room as they follow the beam of his flashlight. “What do you think?” He asks, finally turning to Stefano. “Do you want to try to rest for a little bit?”

Stefano’s brain is screaming at him not to stay here, not to lie down here, but he is feeling more and more overcome by fatigue. It’s been lurking in the background for a while, but now a bone-deep weariness is setting in. He’s not sure how much longer he can even put one foot in front of the other, and surely it’s not wise to continue forward in such a state.

“Yes, I think that would be for the best,” he says. He only takes one more step toward the bed before he remembers that Sebastian has not been having a particularly easy time of it either. “Unless you would like to go first?”

“I’m alright,” Sebastian says with a wry smile. “I think I already had my nap.” He nods in the direction of the elevator.

“I hardly think a head injury qualifies as a nap,” Stefano points out.

“Maybe not,” Sebastian says. “But I’m fine.” He gestures to the bed. “Get some rest. You look dead on your feet.”

That is exactly how Stefano feels, and he’s very pleased that he manages to make it the last few steps to the bed and sink down onto the mattress. The metal frame of the bed groans under his weight, and the mattress has some suspicious stains on it, but it’s still the most appealing thing Stefano has seen in a long time. He is about to adjust his position when he has a terrifying thought.

“You are not going anywhere, are you?”

“No,” Sebastian replies immediately. He grabs a chair from the opposite wall and places it next to the bed. “I get it now. I mean, after what happened upstairs…”. He shudders. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Stefano nods. He’s still a little shaken by even the idea of Sebastian leaving, but at least Sebastian now seems to understand the risks involved. He lies down on the bed. The thin mattress does little to help any of his aches and pains, but it still feels nice to be off his feet for a moment. He lets his eye drift closed and his mind wander.

_ The heat is oppressive. It surrounds him, fills his lungs with thick, wet air, makes him light-headed. The smell of blood, tinged with antiseptic, is heavy in the air. His ears are filled with the white noise, a pervasive buzzing sound that is only occasionally broken by a groan or a scream of pain. _

_ He is disoriented, dizzy as his body is moved through space, and he cannot see. He could before for a short while, but the field medic bandaged both of his eyes, and now even when he opens them he can only see a faint light somewhere in the left side of his field of vision. He is terrified, waiting in the dark. _

_ There are voices closer to him now, and he feels his body being lifted and set down on a hard surface. His hearing seems to be cutting in and out, and he can only catch fragments of their conversation. _

_ “...grenade...right in camp...dead and four injured.” _

_ “Let’s take a look,” he hears, just before the light spot in his vision starts to grow brighter, more intense as hands unravel the bandages from his head. _

_ He is trying to speak, trying to ask what happened, if he’s going to be alright, but he can’t hear himself and he’s not sure he’s even forming proper words. His head and his body throb with pain, and his instinct is to try to pull away from whoever is touching him, but he can’t make his limbs cooperate. _

_ The light becomes more intense, and he squints his eyes to find some relief. He can vaguely see the outline of faces above him, looking down at him. “...extensive damage to the right side of the body…” someone is saying. The light is blinding now, and he closes his eyes entirely, turning his head to the side. The movement causes pain to explode in his neck and shoulder. _

_ “Hold his head,” the voice above him instructs, and there are strong hands on either side of his face turning his head back to center, prying his eyes open. The pain in his head is searing, and he is sure he must have cried out, but no one is acknowledging him. _

_ “Let’s start some morphine, the voice says. “I need to treat these wounds.” _

_ It is a long process, and for most of it, his eyes are covered completely. The morphine helps, but not nearly enough, and more than once he finds himself struggling against these men who are trying to help him, simply because he cannot bear the pain anymore. His entire body feels raw, torn open, exposed to these doctors with their probing hands, their burning liquids, their metal instruments. _

_ Afterward he is left lying in the dark, exhausted, still trembling from the pain and the adrenaline. Even before all of the other treatments, before the horrifying revelation of his new face, before the news of Andre’s death, he is alone, afraid, and in pain. _

“Stefano?”

A familiar voice is in his ear, and a familiar hand is on his shoulder, and the pain and terror of the memory are still coursing through him. He rolls over without hesitation, seeking to get closer to the voice, closer to someone who will touch him like he is a person instead of an object, and it isn’t until he has already thrown his arms around the man beside him that he regains any sense of where he is and who he is with.

By that time, Sebastian’s arms are around him too.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian murmurs. “I’ve got you.” He is kneeling on the floor, leaning over the bed with his arms wrapped around Stefano. Stefano should be pushing him off right now, apologizing for overreacting, and trying to save face, but Sebastian is warm and solid in his arms, and in a world that is cold and constantly shifting, Stefano isn’t going to give that up so easily. Sebastian doesn’t seem to want to let go either.

They cling to each other for a few seconds, and the only sounds Stefano can hear are his own heartbeat and his own breathing. He’s supposed to be stronger than this, but it’s been so long since he’s held anyone in his arms, and Sebastian’s body feels so good against his. It’s irrational, but everything here is irrational- the monsters, the nightmares. It seems foolish not to take advantage of the one thing that seems to actually be helping him.

Still, it can’t go on forever, and when he has managed to slow his breathing and his heart down to something resembling a normal pace, Stefano loosens his hold. Sebastian does the same, allowing Stefano to settle back onto the mattress. Sebastian’s hands are still resting on his upper arms.

“My-“

“Don’t apologize.” Sebastian cuts him off. “You know you don’t need to.” The look on his face, which is illuminated indirectly by the flashlight resting somewhere on the floor, is soft, concerned. It’s an expression Stefano hasn’t seen directed at him in so long that it hurts a little to see it now. “What happened?”

“Just a memory,” Stefano says.

“A bad one, by the looks of it,” Sebastian says.

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “It was of the field hospital...after my injury. I...often wish I did not remember it so well.”

Sebastian nods and gives his arms a squeeze. “Well, so much for waking up feeling refreshed,” he says, letting go of Stefano and returning to his chair.

“Actually, I do feel a bit better,” Stefano observes. He wouldn’t say that he feels refreshed exactly, but he is ready to move on from this room. “Or perhaps I am just disinclined to go to sleep here again. Either way, I am ready to press on.”

“Alright.” Sebastian offers a hand. Stefano takes it, and Sebastian helps to pull him to his feet. “I don’t think I want to see what else is out there, but let’s go find out anyway.”

Stefano doesn’t think anything out there could be as bad as the things inside his own head. Unfortunately, Silent Hill seems to delight in proving him wrong.


	11. War Wounds

Sebastian has to fight the urge to wrap his arms around Stefano again. To say he is lonely would be an understatement, and that one small moment of comfort was almost enough to break him. They are both standing now, facing each other, in the small room in the hospital basement, and it would be so easy to reach out and pull him close. Stefano probably wouldn’t even object. 

Sebastian does feel a little guilty for enjoying himself when Stefano was obviously so upset that he was willing to accept physical comfort from a near total stranger, but he can’t deny that it felt good to hold someone again, to be held, to feel wanted. He hasn’t experienced that with any of the men or women he’s gone home with in the last few months. He hasn’t experienced that since Myra.

He waits for a moment as Stefano finds his footing, alert for the possibility that his companion is going to collapse on him. Stefano is clearly quite resilient if he has survived so long in a town that is actively trying to kill him, but he is also exhausted and very likely traumatized by some of the events of the last hour or so. It’s going to be tricky to keep an eye on him without offending his independent streak, but Sebastian is up to the task. He’s been known to have a bit of an independent streak himself.

Fortunately, Stefano seems to have largely recovered from whatever nightmare had him in its grasp, and when he is confident that Stefano is steady on his feet, Sebastian bends down to pick up his flashlight. He pans it around the room one more time, suppressing a shudder. The sparse furniture and peeling paint on the walls is too familiar, and he can feel a headache coming on as he tries to keep the memories of Beacon from forcing their way back into his mind.

He’s perfectly happy to leave this room behind, even though part of him fears that he is going to walk out into the familiar lobby and see Nurse Tatiana looking at him from the other side of her desk. This isn’t Beacon though. This can’t be Beacon.

Stefano is right behind him as he moves to the door, then out into the hallway. He turns away from the elevator shaft because he is sure as hell not going back in there. He’s still confused about exactly what was going on upstairs, but the theory Stefano explained earlier makes about as much sense as anything else.

“I think we’ll need to be careful with the camera,” he says as they walk down the hall, steps echoing on the concrete floor. “If it really is changing the layout of the building, then it could separate us again.”

“Agreed,” Stefano says. It’s strange what a difference an hour can make, but to Sebastian, they already feel more like a team than they did when they came into the hospital. Hopefully they’ll be able to work as one.

The hallway before them is long and pitch black except for the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight. He can see a couple of metal doors up ahead, but aside from these the area is empty, almost suspiciously so. Of course, if they learned anything upstairs, it’s that there are some threats they won’t see coming.

“Is it just me,” Sebastian begins, “or is it really fucking creepy to think that...thing could be right next to us and we’d never know it?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies from behind him. “I wish I understood the rules a bit better.”

“So you couldn’t see it before when you stabbed it?”

“No, I was backed into a corner and stabbing wildly at the air,” Stefano says. “I suppose I was quite lucky to hit anything at all, but the knife did force it to back off at least temporarily.”

Sebastian’s flashlight crosses a metal placard on the wall next to one of the doors. It reads ‘Stairs’.

“Here we go,” Sebastian says, seizing the door handle and giving a tug. “Let’s get back above ground if we can.” The door opens with a groan, and the flashlight reveals an equally dark stairwell. Sebastian can’t decide which version of the building he prefers: the dark, abandoned, and presumably monster-less version they are in now or the version that came in with the siren. That one at least had decent lighting, though he can’t say he wants to return to it.

The doors leading out of the stairwell onto the first and second floor are locked, and even when Sebastian gives the handles a good shake, it’s clear they’re not getting through that way. They have better luck with the third floor door, though it makes an ear-splitting screech when Sebastian forces it open. They briefly consider accessing the roof, which would in theory provide the best chance of escaping the building’s influence, but that door is firmly locked and looks like it would be difficult to break down.

Taking the only viable option, they step out of the stairwell on the third floor to find themselves in another long, poorly lit hallway, though this one at least has some light coming from the flickering fluorescents overhead. This part of the building also looks more like a proper hospital, with linoleum floors and gurneys strewn about.

“Well,” Sebastian says, turning to Stefano, “any idea where we should go next?”

“Based on prior experience,” Stefano says, “we should go to the last place we would ever want to go.”

“Which is…?”

Stefano nods at a sign on the wall across from them. It reads ‘Operating Theatre’, and the arrow on the sign points down the hall.

Sebastian turns back to him, wondering what kind of prior experience makes Stefano think this is a good idea. “Are you sure?”

Stefano has gone quite pale, and his skin has a sickly tint in the greenish lighting. “Yes,” he replies, “though I hope I am wrong.”

He starts down the hall in the direction of the arrow, and Sebastian falls in step beside him. It occurs to him that maybe he should try to get some sense of what they’re likely to face in the operating room, though he’s not sure it’ll do him any good.

“You said you remember a lot of the treatment?”

“Vividly,” Stefano replies without looking at Sebastian.

“Was it…?” Sebastian can’t quite put his thoughts into words, especially when Stefano is giving him all the signals that he doesn’t want to talk about this.

“It was excruciating,” Stefano says, finally stopping and turning to face Sebastian, though his tone is harsh, irritated. “The explosion itself was terrible, but it was a moment in time, a blur of sensations. The hospital...it just did not end. It went on for weeks. At times I was certain that I could endure no more, but I had no choice.”

Sebastian is about to express his sympathy, but Stefano continues.

“And it was not just the pain. It was the darkness, the isolation. Being manipulated every day as though I was a piece of furniture. At the end of it, I felt barely human. I was barely human. And that was even before I saw…”. He gestures to his face.

Stefano drops his gaze to the floor. He is about to turn and continue walking, but Sebastian reaches out and takes him by the upper arm. He’s not holding on tightly. Stefano could just walk away if he wanted to, but Sebastian has a pretty good sense that he doesn’t want to. Stefano still won’t look at him though.

He takes a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express what he’s thinking. He has seen this mentality before in people who’ve spent too much time in institutions. In his experience, it’s mostly been with prison inmates, but he can easily see how it could extend to the military or to an extended period of hospitalization. Weeks or months of restricted movement, being entirely dependent on others for even basic functions, longing for some kind of individual attention that is never going to come- it takes a toll on a person. No wonder Stefano has fallen into the role of observer so easily. Sebastian wonders how long it’s been since he felt in control of his own life.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he begins. “And I’m so sorry that you were alone, but none of that makes you less human. And this should prove that more than anything.” He gestures to their surroundings.

Stefano looks up at him, a curious expression on his face.

“You said it yourself,” Sebastian points out. “The town plays on our fears and our insecurities, the little flaws that make us human. You saw that monster earlier. You can’t tell me that wasn’t directed at you, at your past experiences.”

Stefano smiles faintly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian answers honestly. He did originally intend to cheer Stefano up, but now he’s pretty sure he’s making an accurate observation about the town. “Is it working?”

“More or less,” Stefano replies. He looks like he’s fighting the urge to smile more broadly, and the blend of warmth and intense concentration is surprisingly endearing. Sebastian realizes his hand is still on Stefano’s arm, and he releases him, taking a step back as his face inexplicably flushes hot.

“Good,” he says, suddenly unable to look at Stefano for reasons that have nothing to do with his facial scarring. Fortunately for his growing embarrassment, Stefano chooses that moment to continue down the hall, and Sebastian follows.

They make a few twists and turns through the hallways, following the signs to the Operating Theatre. Stefano is silent the whole time, his steps quick and measured, body held tense. Sebastian is thankful that at least their radios are silent as well. He is not foolish enough to believe they are safe, but at least the monsters are keeping their distance for now.

When they reach the Operating Theatre, Stefano comes to a stop outside the large double doors, staring straight ahead as Sebastian waits. Seconds go by, and Stefano doesn’t move.

“You know, we don’t have to go in,” Sebastian begins. “I mean, I don’t know if we have to go in, but we could try something else first.”

Stefano shakes his head. “It is no use, Sebastian,” he says. “We have to go in.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says with a nod. He doesn’t know why Stefano is so certain about this, but there seems to be no dissuading him from this plan. “For what it’s worth, I’ll be right here beside you.”

“I am counting on it,” Stefano says. The corner of his mouth twitches up for a moment, and he pushes the swinging door open.

The smell makes Sebastian’s stomach flip over. It’s the smell of disinfectant and cleaning products- the kind of smell Sebastian associates with a hospital that is up and running. Somehow, it brings a creeping feeling of unease, and Sebastian feels a little silly that he hates doctors so much that he’d rather be in a dilapidated building full of monsters than a functioning hospital.

Stefano steps forward over the threshold. They both jump as the overhead lights come on, because those lights are bright. This isn’t like the rest of the building, which was lit by emergency lighting and decaying fluorescent tubes. This room is lit up the way it would be if someone was actually going to perform surgery here, though Sebastian hopes to god that’s not what’s going to happen.

“Sebastian?” Stefano calls out, which Sebastian thinks is strange because he’s only one step behind Stefano. Of course Stefano is under a lot of stress.

“Right here,” Sebastian says, stepping over the threshold himself so that the door to the operating room swings shut behind him.

Stefano whips around and lunges forward, crashing headlong into Sebastian. It’s startling, and it knocks the wind out of his lungs for a moment, but he reflexively wraps his arms around Stefano. Stefano goes still, though he is shaking like a leaf and his hands are fisted in Sebastian’s shirt.

Sebastian gives the room a quick once-over, but he can’t see what would have Stefano so spooked. “What’s wrong?” He asks. “Did you see something?”

“No,” Stefano says. “I cannot see anything.”

The way he says it makes Sebastian’s heart lurch. “Anything?” He says. “Can you see me right now?” He tries to pull back a little to look into Stefano’s face, but Stefano has a death grip on his shirt.

“No,” Stefano replies, beginning to sound panicked. “I see nothing, nothing at all.” His voice is rising, and he is shaking even harder.

“Okay,” Sebastian says, trying to keep his voice calm even though he has no idea what the hell is going on here. He runs a hand up and down Stefano’s back. “It’s going to be alright. I’m still here with you.” He looks around again, but he doesn’t see any monsters or obvious threats. By Silent Hill’s standards, this room is positively ordinary. “It looks like we’re just in a normal operating room. I don’t see any danger.”

“What do we do now?” Stefano asks. His voice is quieter, more controlled, but still laden with tension.

Sebastian mentally curses this town for imposing more helplessness on someone who already felt vulnerable. “We take some deep breaths,” he says. “And then when you’re ready, we’ll explore the room together.” He is damn sure not going to let Stefano leave his side when he’s unable to defend himself.

Sebastian makes an effort to slow down his own breathing, drawing the air in slowly before releasing it equally slowly. His hand is still rubbing Stefano’s back, and soon Stefano’s breathing matches his.

“I am ready.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says. He moves his hands to cover Stefano’s, which are still holding his shirt, although his grip is much looser now. Stefano releases him, but Sebastian keeps one of Stefano’s hands in his. “Just follow me.”

So much for either one of them getting to embrace their independent streak, Sebastian thinks as he begins to lead Stefano around the room, paying careful attention to any potential obstacles. Stefano has been forced into the position of being dependent on him for the second time now, and he isn’t going to make it any worse by letting anything happen to him.

Cabinets line the walls of the room, some with sinks set into them, some with drawers underneath. For the moment, he isn’t worried about opening anything. He’s looking for obvious clues about why they had to come in here. Stefano is silent, now holding Sebastian’s upper arm as they move around the perimeter of the room.

In the center of the room is a metal table, clearly where the patient would be placed, and next to it is a smaller table that holds a number of gleaming metal instruments. Sebastian doesn’t want to look at them too closely, and he suspects Stefano probably wouldn’t either, even if he could see. Next to the instruments is what looks like a medical chart, and that does seem important, so Sebastian steps up to the table to investigate.

“There’s a medical chart here,” he says to Stefano. “But the name is blacked out.”

“Interesting,” Stefano says. “Does it say anything else?”

Sebastian keeps reading, reaching the part of the page with the doctor’s observations and diagnostics.  _ NAME REDACTED presented for treatment after being in proximity to an explosive detonation. Consciousness is intermittent, and patient is in significant distress. Open wounds on right side of face and body including extensive damage to right eye. _

“Yeah,” Sebastian says with a sigh. He can’t think of a better way to say this. “I think it’s talking about you. Do you want me to read it out loud?”

“No,” Stefano answers quickly. “I will take your word for it.”

“Why would this even be here?” Sebastian wonders aloud.

“I believe it is as you observed earlier,” Stefano replies. “The town is targeting us, and it can be very specific when it wants to be.”

Sebastian reads farther down the page. The next set of notes look to have been written at a different time from the earlier ones.  _ Treated wounds, removed several large foreign bodies (see diagram), and flushed all wounds with saline solution. Removed right eye- not salvageable- and sutured/cauterized associated blood vessels. _

“Sebastian?”

“What?” He turns to Stefano, grateful for the distraction. He’s read about as much of the chart as he ever wants to.

“Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

“Oh, sorry,” he says, because Stefano is right of course. “I...uh...this isn’t very nice reading if you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Stefano replies, sounding unusually calm for the situation they’re in. Of course, Stefano had to live this, not just read about it, and Sebastian feels a stab of guilt for reacting so strongly to a trauma that’s not even his own.

“Do you think the reason we were supposed to come in here was to see this?” He gestures at the chart, then remembers that Stefano can’t see him.

“Perhaps,” Stefano says, “though I do not see how that changes anything. I am well aware of everything written there.”

Sebastian is a little more aware of it now than he really wants to be, and the sight and smell of the room are making him a little lightheaded. “I don’t see anything else here that looks relevant to...anything. Can you think of any other reason to stay here?”

“No,” Stefano replies. “Although it is always possible that we are heading for something much worse.”

Stefano is also right about this of course, but Sebastian can’t stay in here any longer. His skin is beginning to crawl with memories of his own hospitalizations- which were nowhere near as significant as Stefano’s, but still lurk in the back of his mind. “Alright then, let’s go,” he says. “Maybe you’ll get your vision back once we get out of this room.”

Stefano makes a noncommittal hum and follows Sebastian to the double doors. Sebastian extends his other arm to push them open, but they remain firmly closed.

“What the-?” Sebastian says, pushing harder, then looking for some sort of handle to pull, but these doors swing open both ways and have no handles at all. They also don’t have any obvious locking mechanism, but that doesn’t stop them from resisting all his attempts to open them.

“Are we locked in?” Stefano asks.

“Yes,” Sebastian replies. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by this stuff anymore, but yeah, we’re locked in.” He gives the doors one final push, mostly out of frustration before stepping back from them.

“Any other exits?” Stefano prompts him.

“No. Looks like one way in, one way out.”

“Well then there must be-“. Stefano stops speaking abruptly and bends forward with a soft sound of surprise. His free hand is pressed to the right side of his abdomen.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian turns to face him, taking him by the shoulders. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Stefano says, though he sounds like he is speaking through gritted teeth. “Nothing happened, I mean.” He takes a deep breath and tries to straighten up but flinches and leans forward again. “It is simply an old injury flaring up...the shrapnel I told you about before...it sometimes…”

Stefano stops speaking, breathing hard.

“Here,” Sebastian says, guiding Stefano a few steps back toward the center of the room to a chair. “Sit down.”

Stefano has to feel around for the chair, but once he touches it he sinks down into it, bringing both hands to press against the affected spot.

“Is it usually this bad?” Sebastian asks, because if something was giving Stefano this much trouble, surely a doctor would have tried to remove it before now.

“No...nothing like this,” Stefano replies, speaking in short bursts between gasps for air. “Usually...it’s more of an ache, but now...now it feels like it’s...burning inside me.”

“It’s alright,” Sebastian says, though he has literally no idea if he’s telling Stefano the truth. “Just take some deep breaths.” He kneels down in front of Stefano, keeping both hands on his shoulders.

Stefano does appear to be taking some deep breaths, but if his behavior is any indication, his pain is not subsiding at all. “Does the chart...say anything…that might help us?”

“What?” It takes Sebastian a moment to figure out what Stefano is suggesting, because the sudden onset of Stefano’s pain has driven all thoughts of Silent Hill out of his mind. He’s in first responder mode, intent on managing what is right in front of him. Stefano is one step ahead already.

“I don’t know,” he says, “Let me check.”

“Don’t-“ Stefano protests as soon as Sebastian lets go of him, but Sebastian is already grabbing the chart and dashing back to Stefano.

“It’s okay,” he says, placing one hand on Stefano’s back. “I’m still here.”

He reads through the chart again, continuing past where he stopped the last time.  _ Diagnostic scans show several foreign bodies that cannot be removed at this time (see diagram). 2-3 inch object in right lower abdomen, in particular, may become problematic and should be considered for removal at a later date. _

Stefano still seems to be focusing on his breathing, and Sebastian absently rubs his back as he reads. “They’re kind of making it sound like you should have had that particular piece of shrapnel removed sometime after the incident,” he says. “Why didn’t you?”

Stefano doesn’t really look like he’s in any condition to be answering questions, but he grits out, “Don’t know...never got around to it.”

Sebastian can’t help but smile in sympathy, even though the situation is anything but light-hearted. Myra always used to tease him that he’d never get around to doing anything medical if he could find some way to avoid it.

Just then, Stefano doubles over with a moan.

“Stefano?” Sebastian drops the chart and kneels down beside Stefano, one hand on his back and the other on his knee.

“It’s getting worse,” Stefano moans, hands still pressing into his midsection. “You have to...take it out.”

“No,” Sebastian says firmly, because surgery is well outside the scope of his training, and also for about a million other reasons that he can’t think of right now because watching Stefano in pain is fairly excruciating by itself. “I can’t. It’s not safe, and I’m afraid it’ll hurt you.”

“It’s hurting me now!” Stefano snaps before he pauses to draw in a long, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry...it’s just very painful...and it’s right under the skin. Here-“

Stefano takes another deep breath and uncurls himself, sitting up straighter with a grunt of exertion. He moves his jacket aside, tugs his shirt out of his pants, and then pulls the waistband down a little to show Sebastian what looks like a fairly ordinary expanse of skin.

“It looks fine to me,” Sebastian says. The area of Stefano’s torso he can see is heavily decorated with scarring, but nothing looks acutely problematic about it.

“Touch it,” Stefano insists.

Sebastian places two fingers lightly on the area Stefano has exposed, trying to avoid causing Stefano additional distress. He doesn’t feel anything at first, but suddenly-

“Holy shit, you’re burning up,” Sebastian says, pulling his fingers back reflexively. “Hold on a second.”

He places his hand on the exposed skin of Stefano’s lower back, then his ribs just above the affected area, but both of those places feel much closer to normal body temperature. When he slides them back down to the place where the shrapnel is, the heat is radiating out from under Stefano’s skin, and he almost feels like his fingers are inches away from a hot stove or a running car engine.

“Press there,” Stefano gasps. “You can feel it.”

Sebastian hesitates to put any pressure on an area that is so obviously tender, but Stefano did ask him to do it, so he exerts just a little pressure with his fingers, and he can indeed feel something hard and irregular in shape under there. Stefano’s right- it’s just under the skin- maybe involved with some muscles, but not likely penetrating the abdominal cavity, which is probably why it hasn’t caused him any real problems until now.

“Please,” Stefano says, pressing a hand over Sebastian’s. “Just get it out...I can’t stand it.”

Sebastian hesitates. He is somewhat reassured by the location of the shrapnel that this would actually be a pretty simple procedure, but it still seems like a terrible idea.

“What makes you think this will work?” He asks Stefano.

“Maybe it won’t,” Stefano says through gritted teeth, “but we are here...in this room...for a reason...and I can’t...think of anything else.”

Sebastian glances up at the instrument table, which does include a scalpel, tweezers, and suturing materials. He can’t believe he’s even considering this. He can’t believe Stefano is considering this, much less asking him to do it. His heart is pounding, and he’s way out of his league here in terms of medicine, but he has to do something to help.

“Hold on,” he says to Stefano as he pushes himself to his feet. “And don't worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Stefano seems to be in too much pain to protest, so Sebastian takes advantage of his distraction to dash over to the cabinets along the wall and start rooting through them furiously until he realizes what he’s looking for will probably be locked up somewhere.

His eyes dart around the room until they fall on the controlled drug cabinet. Stefano doesn’t seem to notice when he uses the butt of his flashlight to break the glass, but in deference to Stefano he does utilize enough caution when reaching into the cabinet not to cut himself. He grabs a bottle of Lidocaine, which should be enough to make superficial cutting painless, finds a syringe in one of the other cabinets, and is back to Stefano in record time.

“Stefano?” Sebastian places his hand on Stefano’s shoulder again.

Stefano is leaning forward with this face buried in his hands. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Sebastian takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

****  
  



	12. Focal Point

Stefano takes a few deep breaths, counts to ten, to twenty, anything to distract himself from the shard of metal burning under his skin. He remembers being a curious child, reaching out to touch a hot stove, feeling the heat and the pain light up his nerve endings before he jerked his hand away just a moment too late.

This sensation is much the same, except that he can’t jerk his hand back and escape from this. It’s inside him, and it’s going to stay that way unless someone does something about it. He was about five seconds away from telling Sebastian to just give him the knife so he could do it himself, lack of sight be damned, when Sebastian agreed to help him.

“What do you need me to do?” His words are carefully controlled, measured, as he fights back the urge to cry out in pain. Sebastian has already expressed his reluctance to do this. It’s not going to help anything if Stefano loses his composure.

“Here. Take your jacket off.” Sebastian’s words come from above him and slightly to the left.

Stefano tries to move his arms to comply with Sebastian’s direction, but Sebastian is already sliding the jacket off his shoulders, so he just goes still and allows Sebastian to undress him.

“Can you stand up?” Sebastian asks, suddenly on his right side. “I think it’ll be easier if you can lie on the table.”

Stefano is not thrilled by this prospect, but he needs Sebastian’s cooperation now more than ever. The pain is searing, torturous, makes him want to crawl out of his own skin just to get away. “Yes,” he says, “I can stand.”

He finds when he tries to get to his feet that he may have overrepresented his abilities somewhat, because straightening up causes the burn to intensify, and he immediately tries to sit down again, but Sebastian’s hands are there to steady him, and in the next moment he is being quite literally lifted up in Sebastian’s arms.

His first reaction is mild outrage at the audacity of this man who apparently thinks it is acceptable to pick him up as though he is a child, but his anger is immediately followed by a fresh stab of pain as he shifts in Sebastian’s arms. Sebastian is already murmuring an apology and setting him down on a cold metal surface which Stefano can only assume is the operating table.

Without consulting Sebastian, he turns onto his left side and curls in on himself. It’s the only position that is even remotely comfortable in his current condition. He’d actually rather be on his right side. The cold surface of the table might soothe some of the burning skin there, but he’s sure Sebastian needs to get to that area. His hands find their way to the edge of the table, because at least that is something to hold onto, a known point to grasp in the midst of all the darkness and the pain.

“Alright,” Sebastian says, and Stefano can tell by his voice that he’s very close to him. “Just going to adjust your clothes a little bit.”

At this point, Stefano literally does not care what Sebastian does to him, because nothing could be worse than feeling like he is being torn open from the inside. Sebastian’s hands move his shirt up and the waistband of his pants down, and Stefano just grips the edge of the table and tries to concentrate on breathing.

He’s too hot and too cold and lightheaded all at once, and he’s afraid he’s going to pass out, though maybe that would be merciful right about now. As much as he needs Sebastian to get this...thing out of him, at this moment he’s not sure whether he’s more afraid of the disease or the cure.

“I’m putting on some antiseptic,” Sebastian says.

The antiseptic is cool and actually kind of soothing compared to what he’s been feeling, but it is short lived, and Stefano wishes fervently that Sebastian would just get on with it. He has suffered before. He is sure he will suffer again, but the anticipation is worse than anything.

“Okay, going to inject the Lidocaine now,” Sebastian says. Stefano has only a moment to wonder where and when Sebastian managed to get his hands on anesthetic before he feels the needle stick. It pales in comparison to the pain he is already in.

“And one more,” Sebastian says. Stefano exhales deeply as he feels the needle slip under his skin again.

“Alright,” Sebastian says a moment later. “Let’s give that a couple minutes to work.”

The pain is still intense, gripping him, and the unyielding ache coupled with the feeling of the hard metal table underneath him and the total darkness that surrounds him is bringing him back to another place and time. He can almost hear their voices, talking about him as though he isn’t even present. Sometimes he wonders if he was ever there at all.

“Stefano?” Sebastian’s voice cuts through, much closer and much more real than the voices in his memory. “How are you feeling?”

He still feels dizzy, disoriented in space, and much too hot even though he is shaking. He opens his mouth to respond but what comes out is more of a moan.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says softly. “It’s going to be alright in a minute. I promise.” His hand presses lightly just above Stefano’s hip at the place where his pain is concentrated. “Does this help?”

“Yes,” Stefano gasps, because even the slight pressure from Sebastian’s hand is giving him some relief.

“Alright,” Sebastian says, pressing more firmly. “Just breathe and give this a minute to work.”

Stefano nods, because breathing is about the only thing he can focus on right now besides Sebastian’s hand on him. As he tries to relax and slow down his breathing over the next few minutes, he is surprised to find that the local anesthetic does seem to be having an effect on him. The pain is subsiding a little bit at a time, and it’s much easier to think clearly.

He’s not sure at all what to think about this new trick of Silent Hill. Whether its intent was simply to cause him to suffer or to put them into a situation where Sebastian would have to hurt him, it seems much more convoluted than anything that’s happened so far. As usual, the town guides them, but it refuses to make its intentions known.

Sebastian’s free hand is rubbing his upper back, and Sebastian is speaking again- nothing substantial, just soft soothing words that are making some of the tightness in his chest go away. He wouldn’t exactly say he’s calm, but he’s certainly much more in control of himself than he was a few minutes ago.

“Any better?” Sebastian asks, as though sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Yes,” Stefano replies, speaking with less effort this time.

“Are you numb?” Sebastian removes his hand and then asks, “Can you feel that?”

“No,” Stefano replies. “I do not feel you doing anything right now.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says, sounding about as nervous as Stefano feels. “Let me know if that changes. I mean, you’ll probably feel some pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“Alright,” Stefano says.

There is a brief pause and then Sebastian’s hand closes over Stefano’s, which he realizes is still clutching the edge of the table. There is a slight tremor in Sebastian’s hand, even as he squeezes Stefano’s.

“Hey,” Sebastian says. “It’s going to be okay. This isn’t like whatever happened before. This is just you and me, and we’re going to get through this together.”

Stefano knows that it’s stupid to be comforted by the kind words and gentle touch of a stranger, knows on some level that Sebastian is only being so kind to ensure his cooperation, to facilitate his own escape from this town, but despite all of that it feels real. And it’s working.

“Are you with me?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano realizes he’s been quiet for several seconds.

“Yes,” he says.

“Can you lie on your back?” Sebastian asks. “I don’t think I can do this from this angle.”

Stefano releases the edge of the table and shifts onto his back. Sebastian’s hands are on him as well, but they are helping, easing him into position, placing what he can only assume is his folded jacket under his head.

“I know it’s probably a dumb question to ask if you’re comfortable,” Sebastian begins.

“I am fine like this,” Stefano says. Part of him wants to tell Sebastian that he can stop pretending to care about him, but the other part- the part that is weak and exhausted and still rather afraid- is enjoying this enough that he wants it to go on just a little longer. If Sebastian wants to keep pretending, Stefano is not going to stop him.

“Alright,” Sebastian says. “I’m going to get started. Just let me know if you’re feeling anything.”

Sebastian is quiet while he works. Stefano assumes that it’s because he is concentrating and doesn’t want to interrupt, though the darkness and isolation are pulling at the edges of his consciousness. He struggles to stay in this moment and out of his past, to focus on Sebastian, on what he can feel now.

It’s pressure for the most part, and it’s very indistinct. He can feel that something is going on in that area of his body, but none of it has the sharp edge of pain that he expects out of this situation. He tries to focus on something familiar, comforting, like setting up a photo in his studio. It doesn’t completely distract him from the cold metal underneath him and the faint smell of blood, but it does help.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Sebastian says after a few minutes, his voice a potent blend of exasperation and wonder.

“What?” Stefano asks, though he isn’t entirely sure he wants to know what would cause the man who is performing surgery on him to say something like that.

“It’s...it’s nothing,” Sebastian says. He quickly adds, “I mean, it’s not nothing, but it’s not important right now. I’ll tell you in a minute. I’ve almost got this thing out.”

There is a little more pressure and a little more shifting around, and then the pressure is relieved entirely and there is a blinding white light beating down on him. He raises his hands reflexively to cover his face.

“Easy,” Sebastian says, placing a hand on his chest. “Don’t move around too much.”

“I think my vision is coming back,” Stefano says. His hand is clasped tightly over his left eye, but the light is still coming in through the cracks between his fingers.

“Really?” Sebastian says, “That’s great, because you probably won’t believe what I just took out of you unless you see it for yourself.”

Stefano isn’t sure how to respond to that at first. He’s more focused on trying to ease his hand away from his eye as it adjusts to the bright light. “Am I going to want to see it?” He asks, rather skeptical.

“Oh, I think you will,” Sebastian says, “but give me a minute. I need to put some sutures in.”

Sebastian is quiet for another minute or so as Stefano is gradually able to uncover his eye and see the room around him, though the light still takes up most of his vision. It’s eerie, unsettling somehow even though he knows he’s here with Sebastian.

He tries to crane his neck to get a look at Sebastian, though the light is making it hard to see anything distinctly.

“You alright?” Sebastian’s voice is at his right side.

“Yes,” Stefano says, “but could you come where I can see you for a moment?”

“Sure,” Sebastian says. His head pops into Stefano’s field of vision, and it’s possible that Stefano has never been as happy to see anyone in his entire life as he is to see Sebastian in that moment.

“Don’t worry,” Sebastian says, as though he can guess what’s going on in Stefano’s head. “I’m not going anywhere. Just don’t look down at yourself until I’m done, okay?”

“Why?” Stefano asks, though he’s more curious than suspicious at this point. Sebastian’s intentions seem to be good so far. “Is it that bad?”

“No, it’s not that bad,” Sebastian says, disappearing from his sight, presumably to return to work. “But it’s probably not good for you to look at it until I’m done. Don’t want you to go into shock or anything.”

“As you wish,” Stefano says. He has seen some fairly gory sights in his time, but he’s not particularly intent on seeing the inside of his own body.

“I’ll warn you that my suture work might not be pretty,” Sebastian says. “My sewing skills are...not great.”

“Do you have occasion to use them on people often?”

“Lily brought me one of her dolls to fix once,” Sebastian offers.

“And?”

“Let’s just say that became Myra’s job pretty quickly.”

“Well, I suppose I am in good hands then,” Stefano says in a tone he hopes comes off as playfully sarcastic.

“Hey, I can sew well enough,” Sebastian replies in mock indignation. “I lived by myself for a while. I can fix clothes and things.”

Stefano wonders briefly if Sebastian thinks that suturing flesh is like mending the seam on his trousers. “I do not find that particularly reassuring.”

Sebastian laughs. “No, you probably shouldn’t,” he says. Then the light over Stefano is moving, shifting over to the side so that the regular overhead lights can take over. “But look,” Sebastian continues. “It isn’t that bad.”

Stefano takes the invitation to examine Sebastian’s work and looks down his body to the area just above his right hip that Sebastian is now wiping clean with a damp gauze pad. It’s actually not a terrible job. The cut is relatively straight, and the line of sutures is a little clumsy, but it is holding his skin together, which he supposes is the basic requirement for something like this.

“Thank you,” he says to Sebastian, struggling to find words to describe this that are not blatantly untrue but also are not insulting. “This is...quite adequate.”

Sebastian does look slightly hurt at that, though he recovers quickly and asks with a note of challenge in his voice, “Are you saying you can do better?”

“I certainly can,” Stefano says with confidence. His eye falls on Sebastian’s bandaged arm. “And I will prove it if you will let me take another look at your arm.”

The expression that crosses Sebastian’s face is almost comically panicked. “Let’s...uh...make sure you’re okay first,” he says. “Do you feel like you can sit up?”

Stefano feels like he can do almost anything now that his vision has returned and there isn’t a piece of metal trying to burn its way out through his skin. He grabs the edge of the table and pulls himself into a sitting position, letting his legs hang over the side.

“Whoa,” Sebastian says. “Take it easy. Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean you can’t hurt yourself. Actually, we should probably put a bandage on that just to be safe.”

Stefano thinks Sebastian is being a little overly cautious in treating this wound which, in the grand scheme of things, is relatively minor and certainly in better condition now than it’s been in years, but he waits patiently while Sebastian secures some gauze over it with medical tape. Looking over Sebastian’s surgical supplies, there’s not nearly as much blood as he was expecting, and when he casts his eye over the room itself, it’s surprisingly clean and modern looking compared to the rest of the hospital.

“How long will the anesthetic take to wear off?” He asks. The effect seems to be localized, so it’s not likely to cause him any problems although it is a little disconcerting to have this strangely numb spot on his torso.

“A couple of hours,” Sebastian says, straightening up. “Maybe a little more if I didn’t get the dose exactly right.” He looks Stefano up and down. “You can fix your clothes if you want,” he adds.

Stefano takes a moment to do that, tucking in his shirt and adjusting his trousers to sit properly at his waist again. Now that he’s not filled with adrenaline and terror, it’s rather cool in this room, so he puts his jacket back on as well, slipping into it carefully so as not to pull on his stitches too much.

Sebastian takes a seat in a chair a few feet away from the table and rakes a hand through his hair with a deep sigh.

“Are you alright?” Stefano asks, realizing quite suddenly that he’s been so caught up in his own experiences that he hasn’t given any thought to Sebastian’s condition in quite some time.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Honestly, that was intense.” He leans back in the chair and folds his arms across his chest. “And I realize how stupid it sounds that I’m saying that to you.”

“I do not think that is stupid at all,” Stefano says, “though I fear things may get even more intense before they get better.”

He eases himself off the edge of the table. Sebastian is quick to stand and move in to offer assistance, but Stefano finds his feet support him well enough.

“Are you going to let me look at your arm?”

“It’s fine,” Sebastian says quickly, pulling it tightly to his body in a move that Stefano is not sure is entirely conscious on his part. “The bleeding stopped. I’m good.”

“Controlling bleeding is only the first step in wound care,” Stefano says. He feels a bit like he is lecturing out of a medical textbook, but he knows he’s right. 

“I think I’m qualified to treat wounds,” Sebastian counters, though it’s fairly obvious that Sebastian’s lack of cooperation is rooted in something besides principles of wound care. Sebastian has been forthright with him in the past, so Stefano opts for the direct approach.

“No one is well qualified to treat their own wounds,” he points out. “Why don’t you tell me why this bothers you so much?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian answers. He sounds...distressed, but he hasn’t shut down yet, so Stefano presses a little more.

“Is it the medical aspect? The touching? Accepting help?” He suggests.

Sebastian seems to be actually considering this. “Maybe a little of all three,” he says finally.

“I think after recent events you probably know that I understand those concerns quite well.”

Sebastian nods wordlessly.

“And I am fully prepared to respect your wishes,” Stefano continues. It feels perfectly natural, because after all, he’s only articulating the way Sebastian has been interacting with him already. “Will you let me help you?”

Sebastian swallows hard. “Okay.”

“Then have a seat,” Stefano says, gesturing to the chair Sebastian vacated just a minute ago. He finds another one over by the wall and brings it over so that he can sit on Sebastian’s right side.

Sebastian still looks a little like a deer in headlights, so Stefano carefully takes his arm, pushing up his sleeve to fully expose the bandage and give him some room to work. Blood hasn’t seeped through to the upper layers of the bandage, which is a good sign.

“Normally I would not remove a dressing like this in the field,” Stefano says as he unties the knot and begins to unwind the bandage, “but I suppose we are not technically in the field, are we?”

Sebastian doesn’t respond, and Stefano lets that go for a moment, considering whether being in an empty hospital is much of an advantage. They do have access to better supplies, of course, but usually the reason one goes to a hospital is for medical expertise, which they are sorely lacking.

He is more cautious as he removes the last few layers of bandage material, as these ones are sticking to the wound, and he has to remove them as carefully as possible to minimize the chance of further bleeding. This is the first really good look at the wound he’s had, and it’s not as bad as he feared. It isn’t deep, though it is long and jagged. It is going to result in quite a scar no matter what they do, but it will certainly heal more quickly and with less risk of infection if it is closed up.

Stefano glances up at Sebastian, who is resolutely looking at the opposite wall.

“Sebastian?” He prompts.

“Yeah?” Sebastian doesn’t look at him.

“Are you alright?”

“I think so,” Sebastian replies, though he is still not looking at Stefano.

“Your arm does not look so terrible,” Stefano says, “though I would recommend that we clean it and stitch it. It is a long cut and the edges of your skin are not meeting on their own.”

“Okay.”

Sebastian is saying the right words, but there’s no inflection, and Stefano doesn’t feel confident at all in the meaning behind those words. One of his hands is still supporting Sebastian’s arm, but the other covers Sebastian’s hand.

“Are you with me?” he asks, remembering the words Sebastian spoke to him just a few minutes ago when he was blind and terrified.

Sebastian is silent for a moment, but glances over at him with just a hint of a smile on his face. “Yeah, I’m here,” he says. “Don’t think I should look at my arm though.”

“You do not have to look at it,” Stefano says quickly, because the last thing he needs is for Sebastian to faint. “How much is it hurting you now?”

“Not a lot,” Sebastian says, “though that might be because of how much everything else is hurting.”

Stefano nods. It stands to reason that Sebastian’s more recent injuries might be occupying more of his attention even though this one is likely the most serious.

“I still think it would be wise to use some local anesthetic before cleaning and suturing,” he says. They have it available, and Sebastian did him this kindness when their situations were reversed.

“I’m not a big fan of needles,” Sebastian says.

Stefano pats him on the knee. “Well then I have some very bad news for you about this whole suturing business.”

That gets a little chuckle out of Sebastian, and Stefano smiles as well as he reaches for the table to get a new syringe. He draws up the Lidocaine.

“Do you know how to dose this?” He asks Sebastian, curious both because he himself does not and because he wonders if Sebastian had any idea what he was doing with his impromptu surgery.

“It’s on the side of the bottle,” Sebastian says. “I think it’s pretty hard to mess up as long as you don’t hit a vein.”

“Noted,” Stefano says. He consults the dosage chart, which is indeed on the side of the bottle, then takes Sebastian’s arm in one hand and readies the syringe with the other. “You are not going to pass out, are you?” He asks, noting that Sebastian seems to have gone rather pale.

“No,” Sebastian says. “I’m not that bad. I just get really quiet...or sometimes I start talking a lot.”

“That’s quite alright,” Stefano says. Then, in hopes of distracting Sebastian, he asks, “Do you have any more stories about Myra and Lily?”

“Not as many as I should,” Sebastian replies. “Lily was only five when…”

Sebastian’s voice trails off, and Stefano can’t tell if it’s because he’s started injecting the Lidocaine or because Sebastian can’t bear to speak of this.

“I am sorry,” he says, eye still trained on Sebastian’s arm as he injects in another location. “It was not my intention to upset you.”

“I know,” Sebastian says. “A lot of the memories aren’t sad by themselves, but it’s hard to think about them now, knowing she’s…”

Stefano finishes the injections and sets the syringe aside, waiting for Sebastian to finish his sentence, but instead Sebastian looks at him. “The worst part is the dreams though,” he says. “I have them all the time, but when I’m dreaming I’m usually aware enough to know that she’s dead, you know? To know that it’s a dream, but I had one the other night that I actually bought into. I believed for at least those few minutes that we were all back together and everything was okay.”

Stefano nods, because he knows exactly what Sebastian is talking about.

“And then having to wake up and realize…”. Sebastian’s head drops into his free hand, and Stefano places a hand on his knee.

“I know that dream,” he says. “I have had that dream, and I have had to wake up from that dream.”

Sebastian raises his head, looks as though he is studying him for signs of deception. Stefano is certainly capable of deception, but here he has no need of it. He has had that dream, and he has had to wake up from that dream.

Then Sebastian is throwing his arms around him, and Stefano can only embrace him back and hope that Sebastian’s sudden arm movements aren’t causing problems for his open wound. Sebastian’s face is buried in his shoulder, and his own hands come to rest on Sebastian’s back.

There are things they should be doing, but Stefano doesn’t want to break this moment. Sebastian has lost so much. They have both lost so much.


	13. Unresolved

Sebastian steals another glance at his arm. He can’t feel the needle piercing the skin, which is weird and disorienting in itself, but just the idea of it makes his head swim a little.

“Stop looking,” Stefano scolds him, not taking his eye off of his work. “If you are going to swoon on me this is going to become significantly more difficult.”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian replies, jerking his eyes away to focus on some medical chart hanging on the wall across from them. He’s pretty sure that ‘swooning’ is something done by rich ladies in big fancy dresses. “Just curious.”

“You know what they say about curiosity,” Stefano says. “Besides, this can hardly be as bad as one of your crime scenes.”

“Oh, it’s not that,” Sebastian says. He’s seen his fair share of blood and gore, and those things do very little to faze him now. “It’s just because it’s my own arm, I guess.”

It feels a little silly to say that to Stefano, who of course has experienced much more serious injuries, but Sebastian doesn’t know how else to explain it. Fortunately, Stefano doesn’t seem to require any further explanation.

“I am nearly finished,” he says. “Perhaps you can find something else to look at for a minute.”

“Sure,” Sebastian says. He wouldn’t exactly say that he’s found something else to look at, but he has renewed his commitment to not looking at his arm. His eyes wander around the room, and he is once again struck by how clean and modern this room is compared to the rest of the hospital. It’s like this room is part of another structure entirely, and once again he wonders what is going on in this town.

“There.” Stefano sits back and gestures to the neat line of sutures that close the jagged gash on Sebastian’s arm. “What do you think?”

Sebastian cautiously directs his eyes downward again to consider Stefano’s handiwork, which is damn close to what he would expect from an actual doctor. And he’s been sutured up enough times to know.

“Alright,” Sebastian grudgingly admits. “You did do a better job. Must be that artistic eye.”

“A skilled eye and a steady hand,” Stefano replies. His tone is casual, but Sebastian can tell that he’s pleased with the compliment by the little smile that turns up the edge of his mouth. Stefano tapes a gauze pad over the wound and turns back to the table of instruments. “Sebastian,” he says with a distinctly suspicious tone in his voice. “How long has this key been here?”

“Oh!” Sebastian exclaims, excitement surging up in him as he remembers what he’s been dying to tell Stefano ever since the middle of his impromptu surgery. “That’s what I found inside you!”

“What?” Stefano blinks at him in apparent disbelief.

“Yes,” Sebastian insists. “That’s the piece of ‘shrapnel’ that was bothering you so much.”

“Well I suppose that does explain your reaction,” Stefano says. He turns the key over in his hand, considering it. “Do you suppose that particular piece of shrapnel has always been shaped like this?” he says thoughtfully. “Or did it change when we entered this room?”

Thinking about the implications of this makes Sebastian’s head hurt a little, but he still does his best to answer. After all, Stefano has done more than his fair share to help them progress here. “Well I guess if it was changing shape, that might explain why it started hurting so suddenly, but maybe we’ll know more when we find whatever lock it fits.”

“Very true, though I wonder what on earth this kind of key will open,” Stefano muses. “Surely not any traditional door.”

The key is about the size of a standard house key, but that’s the only thing standard about it. It is intricately crafted and looks almost old-fashioned, more like the key to an antique trunk than to an ordinary door.

“We can find out,” Sebastian says. “If you’re feeling up to it.”

Stefano nods. “I am a bit numb in places, as I am sure you are as well, but otherwise recovered.” He pauses, glancing around the room. “This may be an opportunity to assemble a much better first aid kit though. Let me collect a few things.”

It’s a good observation on Stefano’s part, particularly since it seems that some of the challenges the town presents to them are medical in nature. Sebastian spends a few minutes going through drawers and cabinets, helping Stefano collect a good assortment of supplies.

“There,” he says when he’s satisfied they’ve got everything they might need arranged into a convenient zippered pouch. “I hope to god we don’t have to do any more unplanned surgeries, but at least now we’re equipped for it.

Stefano gives him a faint smile. “You are quite good under pressure actually.”

“What?” Sebastian says, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. “I...uh...I guess I just react, but things usually work out okay.” Joseph, and sometimes Myra as well, would often criticize him for being impulsive, and they were right, but Sebastian also knows that his instincts usually pay off.

“I think I owe quite a bit to your reactions then,” Stefano says. His eye is still fixed on Sebastian, and it makes Sebastian feel unsettled in a way that is very much at odds with everything else going on here in Silent Hill. The heat is spreading down his neck, and he takes a step back.

“Glad I could help,” he says, voice coming out a little hoarse for reasons he can’t explain. “And thanks for patching me up.” He gestures to his arm.

“Anytime,” Stefano says. A thoughtful look crosses his face. “You go to such lengths to take care of others. I wonder if you can do the same when taking care of yourself.”

Sebastian laughs. He does remember what Stefano said when they argued back in that hallway before everything went to hell. “I think we know that’s not going to happen,” he says. “But maybe I can try a little harder.”

“See that you do,” Stefano says, “or you will have to answer to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Sebastian says, giving him a mock salute.

There is a brief flash of something that looks like sorrow in Stefano’s eye, but then he says. “Very well, let’s see about getting out of here then.”

He picks up the key, tucks it into his pocket, and heads for the double doors. This time, they swing open easily as soon as Stefano lays a hand on them.

“This is really fucking creepy,” Sebastian observes as they step out into the hallway again.

“What in particular?” Stefano asks, pausing so that Sebastian can draw up next to him.

Sebastian takes out his flashlight and they start down the hall. “Just the level of manipulation the town is doing...the idea that if it wants me to cut you, it will find a way to make me do it...it’s just…”. He shivers. “I don’t like it.”

“Nor do I,” Stefano replies, “and what is worse, I do not think it is possible to outsmart it. Every time I think I may have done so, I end up wondering whether I have just done exactly what it wanted me to do all along.”

“It’s a mindfuck,” Sebastian says. “Just like STEM.” He pauses. “Do we even know where we’re going now?”

“Hopefully out of this building,” Stefano replies. “I would expect we need to find our way back to the first floor or locate another exit. But in the short term, no, we do not know where we are going.”

“I guess it’s time to start checking some doors then,” Sebastian says.

Now that they don’t have a particular destination in mind, it makes more sense to explore all options in hopes of finding a way out. Unfortunately each one he checks seems to be locked. On the other side of the hall, Stefano isn’t having much better luck. He gives one of them a good shake, rattling it in its frame before he asks a question, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What was STEM like?”

Sebastian thinks for a moment before he answers, checking another locked door himself. “Kind of like this,” he says, “but it seemed less...purposeful, I guess. I know I’m probably not explaining this well, but in STEM it felt like I was just a lab specimen in some kind of fucked-up experiment, but here…I don’t know why, but it sort of feels like we’re here for a reason.”

“That is an odd thing to say, but I have been thinking the same thing,” Stefano replies. “Perhaps because there seem to be no coincidences in this town, I also find it hard to believe we came to be here simply by chance.”

Stefano’s words jog Sebastian’s memory about what brought Stefano to this town in the first place. “Will you tell me about the letter you got? And who it was from?”

Stefano stops walking, and Sebastian does as well, turning to face him. He’s not shining his flashlight directly at Stefano, but he can see his face. His brow is furrowed, but his features haven’t gone as hard as they have in the past.

“Yes,” Stefano answers finally, “but not here and not now. I am stretched a bit thin at the moment.”

Sebastian nods. “I understand,” he says. After the last few hours of physical and mental exertion, he can’t blame Stefano for not wanting to take on an emotionally difficult topic, even if it seems likely that they’ll have to face it eventually.

He turns to continue walking, and Stefano falls in step beside him.

“Can you tell me about the environment in STEM?” Stefano asks. “If you do not mind speaking of it, of course.”

“It’s alright,” Sebastian says, though it does make him feel a little warmer on the inside to know that Stefano is at least considering what might be uncomfortable for him. “I don’t mind. Actually, parts of STEM did look like a hospital, or more of an old-fashioned asylum I guess, so this-“ he gestures at the hallway around them, “-is kind of familiar. But there were other places too: forests, and cities, and little towns, and we were constantly behind shifted around between them. It was very disorienting.”

“It sounds like good preparation for this,” Stefano says wryly. “Though I think ‘disorienting’ might be a bit of an understatement.” He pauses then asks, “You said ‘we’ just a moment ago. Who was with you?”

There is a lump forming in Sebastian’s throat as he answers, “My partner, and a rookie detective we were training, and another officer. Later on we met up with a doctor and a patient from the hospital. I assume we all got sucked into STEM together, but it’s so hard to tell what was real that I guess some of it could have just been the system playing tricks on me. Maybe I was alone in there the whole time, but I don’t think so.”

“What happened to them?”

Sebastian has to swallow down the lump this time before he can form words. “I don’t think anyone else made it out, at least not the way they were before. Kidman, that’s the rookie detective, turned out to be working for the agency that built the STEM technology, and she turned on me and Joseph inside the system.”

“And Joseph?”

“He was shot in STEM. I guess he died. He must have died.” Sebastian shakes his head, because he’s not even convincing himself. “I guess I don’t know what happened to him.”

“You were close?”

“He was my partner,” Sebastian says, but he’s still not convincing himself. Joseph was so much more. “I should have done more,” he says. “I should have saved him. I should have looked for him.”

“Were you in any position to do those things?” Stefano asks. His voice has taken on a skeptical tone.

“Honestly? No,” Sebastian replies, “but that doesn’t matter. He would have tried to find me. Hell, maybe he’s trying to find me right now.”

“You are implying that STEM still exists,” Stefano says. “Does it?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian shoots back, aware that his voice is rising in irritation. These are answers he should have, but he doesn’t. He can’t tell what’s happened to STEM any more than he can tell what’s happened to Joseph, and it makes him burn with frustration. He pauses and takes a deep breath. None of this is Stefano’s fault, and Stefano did ask a pretty reasonable question.

“I thought I had destroyed the system when I escaped,” he explains. “I thought that was the only way I could escape actually, and when I was back in the real world, some of the people who I saw in STEM were later confirmed to be dead, but Joseph wasn’t one of them. He just...disappeared.”

“Would you rather know he was dead?”

The question takes Sebastian by surprise, because at face value it seems kind of insensitive, but Stefano sounds genuinely curious.

“I’d rather know something,” he answers finally. “It sounds weird to say this, but as terrible as Lily’s death was, at least I know what I’m dealing with every day. The shrink the department sent me to always used to talk about coming to terms with what had happened, and I can’t come to terms with something if I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be coming to terms with.”

“I have never found conventional psychology to be very productive,” Stefano observes.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “It was very productive at getting the department off my back, but that’s about it. I know I fucked up, and there’s nothing that guy was going to say that would convince me I was wrong about that.”

“How exactly did you ‘fuck up’ as you so eloquently put it?”

“Which time?” Sebastian asks with a bitter laugh.

Stefano doesn’t answer, and Sebastian doesn’t elaborate. It’s not exactly a subject he enjoys talking about. Despite his best efforts, he seems to have a unique talent for letting people down.

“What about you?” Sebastian asks, realizing that Stefano has let another piece of information about himself slip out. “Did you talk to someone after what happened?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “Or at least, I tried to. I am not very demonstrative at my best, as you may have noticed, and I loathe the idea of a stranger poking around inside my head.”

“I know what you mean,” Sebastian says. “I felt like I was always on the defensive there. I guess maybe that’s why it didn’t work.”

“Perhaps,” Stefano says, “though I suspect the reason it did not work for me is that I did not want it to.”

“What?” Sebastian glances over at Stefano, but he doesn’t look like he’s making a joke. 

“No matter what approach was taken, I always felt like I was being told to leave my past behind, to accept and move on and slowly forget, and I was not willing to do that.” Stefano pauses. “I am still not willing to do that, I suppose.”

Sebastian is quiet for a moment. Stefano’s words are weighing heavy on his mind. “I think I’m kind of the same way with my past,” he says finally. “There’s still too much there that’s unresolved...like Joseph and Myra.”

They walk on in silence for a few moments. Every door they try is still locked. They’ve almost made a complete circuit of the hallway now, and Sebastian is beginning to wonder where the hell they’re supposed to go now, when he remembers they got here through the stairwell.

“I think that’s all the doors up here,” he says to Stefano. “Should we try another floor?”

“If we can access one,” Stefano says, sounding doubtful. Sebastian’s recollection is that the doors leading to the first and second floors were locked, but maybe the new key they’ve obtained fits one of them.

“I think that might be our only option,” he says, opening the door to the stairwell. He’s not particularly hopeful about this course of action, because those doors didn’t look like they’d take a key like the one Stefano is now carrying, but this does appear to be the only possible course of action short of returning to the basement.

He sighs. As much as they may talk about making ‘progress’ here, the town has a way of making it feel like they’re just going around in circles. They’ve reached the second floor landing by now, and Sebastian stops to examine the door. It is heavy and metal, with a keyhole that looks like it requires a larger, more industrial key than the one they have.

Sebastian takes a knee, mulling their options over in his head. There is still a section of the basement they didn’t explore, but he’s not eager to go back underground so soon. If their ultimate goal is to escape the building, and hopefully the entire town, then it only seems sensible to stick to areas where they have a greater chance of accessing the outside. The third floor doesn’t seem to hold any more rooms they can get into, and it looks like they are cut off from the first and second floor completely. It’s possible they could climb up the elevator shaft and exit on another floor, but that seems a little dangerous, especially when the elevator doors have a mind of their own.

He glances up at Stefano, who is looking thoughtfully at the door. “Any ideas?”

“Just one,” Stefano says. He pulls his camera from his pocket and raises an eyebrow at Sebastian.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sebastian says. After everything that happened in the operating room, he had forgotten all about Stefano’s camera. It does represent a possible solution to their problem, but also a huge risk, since the effect it has on the environment has been unpredictable at best. “Do you think it’s safe to use it?”

Stefano shrugs. “I would expect it is about as safe as any other course of action,” he offers. “And it is quite possibly the only one that might allow us to access other areas of the building.”

Sebastian frowns. “What about that monster? Couldn’t it come back?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “Though I do not think the camera actually influences where it is in the building. The camera only seemed to affect whether we could see it and whether it could see us.” He pauses for a moment. “I am more concerned about whether it might result in us being separated again.”

“Hadn’t even thought about that,” Sebastian says, because Stefano raises a much more pressing concern. “But I definitely don’t want to be alone here.”

“The last time it seemed like it was affecting us both, even though I was the one holding it,” Stefano says. “And I suppose if we were separated, I could in theory just use the camera again to change it back.”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian says. “If the town wants us to be split up, then it probably wouldn’t work that way.”

“If the town wanted us to be split up, we would be split up already,” Stefano points out. “But I won’t do it unless you are in agreement.”

“No, you’re right,” Sebastian says. “We might as well try it.” He doesn’t voice his next thought, because he’s sure Stefano is already thinking it.

It doesn’t seem to matter what they do, because the town is just going to keep manipulating them, funneling them down whatever path it wants them to take, leading them right to whatever experience it wants them to have. The obvious answer is to give up, to stop trying to control their own destinies, but Sebastian isn’t ready to do that, and he doesn’t think Stefano is either. 

Sebastian stands up, hand instinctively going to his revolver. There’s no reason for it, considering all the good that revolver has done him since he arrived in town, but it’s a hard habit to break.

Stefano gives him a vague smile. “I was actually going to suggest that maybe we should be in...physical contact when I use the camera.” There is a slight blush showing on his visible cheek. “Of course, I do not understand the rules, but it might be wise-”

“No, you’re right,” Sebastian says quickly, his own face inexplicably warm at the prospect of being in physical contact with Stefano. He takes a half step closer, raising his hand awkwardly into the air between them. “What should I…?”

Stefano gives a reassuring smile. “Just take my arm,” he says, extending the arm that is not holding the camera.

“Right.” Sebastian interlocks his arm with Stefano’s, trying hard to affect the same confidence that Stefano seems to have in these situations. He hasn’t always been like this, and he can’t figure out why suddenly even casual intimacy seems like an insurmountable obstacle. Come to think of it, why is he even thinking of it as intimacy at all? It’s just another survival technique, necessitated by the situation they’ve found themselves in.

Stefano’s voice jerks him out of his swirling thoughts.

“Sebastian?”

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies. “Just sort of zoned out for a second.”

“Very well,” Stefano says, though the tone of his voice suggests that he might not believe Sebastian. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Sebastian’s stomach is flipping over now for an entirely different reason, but there’s nothing to be gained by waiting. His arm tightens around Stefano’s, for all the good that’s going to do when they’re using the mysterious camera.

Stefano raises the camera and in the next moment the flash goes off. Sebastian blinks, immediately wishing he’d averted his eyes, because he can’t afford to be blinded right now.

The first thing he registers is that Stefano’s arm is still in his. Stefano is shaking slightly, or maybe that’s him. He can’t be sure.

He blinks a few more times, his vision slowly returning. They are still in the stairwell, but it looks...different. The walls are less rusted, the lighting fixtures are intact, and a weird, blue glow illuminates their surroundings. It’s eerie, to be sure, but not half as bad as what Sebastian had feared.

“That wasn’t so bad, I guess,” Sebastian says.

“I would not be so sure about that.”

Stefano nods at the doorway, and Sebastian follows his gaze.

“Oh, shit.”

The doorway to the second floor hall is open. In fact, the door is lying on the ground just inside the hall. The damage to the door frame and the lingering scent of gunpowder lead Sebastian to the inescapable conclusion that this door has been blown off its hinges.

“It’s here,” Stefano breathes.


	14. Forced Perspective

Stefano’s heart is pounding in his ears as his brain struggles to process what he is seeing, even though what he is seeing is relatively straightforward. There was an explosion here that damaged the door and surrounding wall, leaving the second floor hallway accessible to them. 

What is less straightforward and more troubling is that the likely explanation for this scene is the monster they encountered on the first floor. Even worse, Stefano has no idea what version of the building they’re in now, whether they will be able to see the monster, or whether it will be able to see them.

His chest feels tight, and he realizes he is holding his breath, but he doesn’t want to let it out just yet. He listens. The monster was not particularly quiet, at least in the version of the building where he was able to hear it, but he hears nothing now except the beating of his own heart. Even Sebastian seems to be holding his breath.

Sebastian...Stefano glances over at him. Sebastian is looking through the doorway into the second floor hall, and Stefano can practically see him straining his ears to listen as well.

He looks back at Stefano, and there is tension written into every line of his face. On a lot of people, that would spell distress, but Sebastian only seems energized somehow.

Stefano isn’t surprised. He may have just met Sebastian, but he is already starting to develop a picture of the kind of man he is, and one thing he knows for sure is that Sebastian comes alive under pressure. Hopefully his skills will be enough to see them through whatever is waiting on the second floor.

Stefano lets out his breath in a rush. It’s not entirely a conscious decision, but he can’t hold it anymore. When he draws it back in, the familiar scent of gunpowder lingers in his nostrils, pulls him back toward another time and place, one full of noise and darkness, and pain. He can feel his empty eye socket beginning to throb, his palms beginning to sweat when Sebastian interrupts.

“Hey.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it draws Stefano out of that dark place, just as it did a few minutes ago in the operating room. “We’ve got this. We made it last time. We can do it again.”

There is warmth radiating from Sebastian, not just from his words of encouragement, but from his arm, which Stefano realizes belatedly is still linked with his own. He should be releasing Sebastian now, stepping away. There’s no need for them to remain in physical contact, but he is not quite ready to give up this small amount of comfort yet.

“I suppose so,” he says, “though it is always difficult here to tell whether we made it because of our own actions or because…”

“Because the town wants us to,” Sebastian finishes with a sigh. “I know, but if we get too bogged down in this we’re never going to get anywhere. It’s-.” He shakes his head. “It’s just too complicated to think about right now.”

“Agreed,” Stefano says. It will be both complicated and ultimately unproductive to debate the best course of action to take in an environment that has such...fatalistic implications. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “Do you have any thoughts about how we proceed from here?”

“Well, I think we’re going to have to go through that door,” Sebastian says. “We should be alert for any changes in the environment, though I don’t know how much warning we’re going to have…”

Stefano nods. There’s no way to tell if they’re going to have any warning at all.

“And at some point we’re probably going to have to let go of each other.”

Stefano laughs in spite of himself, letting go of Sebastian’s arm. It’s arguably the wrong time to make a joke, but Sebastian does seem to have a talent for releasing the tension in a serious situation. It brings a lump to his throat because he remembers someone else who could lighten the mood in even the most dire circumstances.

But it won’t do any good to dwell on the past now, especially when he’ll probably be forced to relive it sooner or later. Silent Hill has a way of latching on to potent memories and twisting them to its own purposes. It deals in pain, fear, and grief, and Stefano knows better than to hope it might be done with them now. Perhaps it will never be done with them.

Sebastian isn’t looking at him, almost pointedly so, but Stefano can see the hint of a smile on his face, and Sebastian’s obvious enthusiasm at having made him laugh brings another wave of nostalgia. This one is less sad somehow, more comforting. It feels like the beginning of something good, rather than the end of it, and Stefano holds on to that thought as he steps forward and through the door frame into the hallway. 

A blue light emanates up from the floor all along the length of the hall, casting the whole area in an eerie glow. It reminds Stefano of what happened on the first floor after the siren went off, just before he saw Andre and the monster started stalking them. It isn’t doing anything to calm his nerves.

Stefano steps around the door lying on the ground, shooting a furtive glance over his shoulder at Sebastian who is dutifully following behind him. The hallway here branches off in three directions. One runs straight ahead of them the length of the building, but there are also branches to the left and right.

What is somewhat remarkable about these halls- or at least different from the third floor- is that all of the doors are standing open. They certainly have a lot of options here, and Stefano isn’t sure whether this is an improvement or not. 

“There’s got to be another stairwell somewhere in the building,” Sebastian offers. “Probably on the other side? If we can get in there, maybe we can reach the first floor again.”

“Very true,” Stefano says. “Straight ahead it is then.”

They only make it about fifty feet down the hall before it becomes obvious that Silent Hill does not want them to go straight ahead. At the far end of the hall from them, the lights go out and the doors slam shut. Stefano halts abruptly, and Sebastian bumps into him, grabbing Stefano’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Shit,” Sebastian breathes, voicing the exact thought that is going through Stefano’s head. “What-?”

Sebastian never gets to finish that thought, because just then the next bank of lights goes out and the next set of doors slams shut. Stefano reflexively jumps back into Sebastian, but that doesn’t really matter because in the next moment he and Sebastian are both turning and running down the hall as the lights go out and doors slam shut behind them.

Stefano is afraid to look back. Each door slam sounds closer than the last. His breath is coming hard and fast and his heart is beating wildly and even though there is no obvious threat, he can tell that  _ something  _ is coming,  _ something  _ is going to get them if they don’t move. His legs can hardly move fast enough to keep up with his racing mind, and no matter how hard he runs, he feels like whatever it is, it’s  _ right  _ behind him.

They’re almost at the door to the stairwell now, and he’s not sure either one of them can move fast enough going up or down stairs to avoid whatever this is. He is taking a deep breath to communicate this to Sebastian when there is a rush of wind behind him, almost like he can literally feel the monster breathing down the back of his neck.

They’re at the fork in the hallway, and he can’t get his breath, and it’s all he can do to dive off to the right before it catches him. He is vaguely aware of Sebastian diving to the left before the explosion goes off.

He staggers, reaches out...for Andre...for Sebastian...he doesn’t know who anymore. He is falling, through air and sand. The smell of blood is in his nostrils, and the floor is hard underneath him, and there is a shooting pain in his right side. He curls in on himself, waiting...for the pain to subside...for death...he doesn’t know anymore, but something has to happen. He can’t go on like this. 

“Don’t quit on me, Stefano!”

Andre is above him, around him, dragging him. Explosions are going off all around them, the siren is wailing, and it’s insane that Andre is even here, is risking his own life to save Stefano’s.

“Just leave me,” he gasps out. He’s not even a soldier. He doesn’t have anything to contribute. He’s never fit in here, and he’s never fit in anywhere, and there’s no reason for anyone to help him.

“I would never,” Andre says through gritted teeth. His arms are locked around Stefano’s chest, and his voice is right in Stefano’s ear, and Stefano doesn’t exactly feel safe, because it’s impossible to feel safe in the middle of an air raid, but at least he doesn’t feel abandoned, and that’s something. 

“I would never leave you.”

It’s not Andre’s voice. It’s Sebastian’s, and it’s coming through his radio. Stefano opens his eye, trying to reorient himself to his surroundings. There is no more siren, no more noise at all, in fact, and the dust is settling around him.

“I can’t get to you right now,” Sebastian continues, “but I’m not leaving you. Stay with me, Stefano.”

Stefano fumbles with his radio, depressing the button to speak. “Sebastian?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian answers immediately. “I’m here. You okay?”

Stefano pauses for a moment to take stock of himself, but aside from the fact that he is sprawled on the ground, he does seem to be basically intact. He fumbles for the radio, pressing the button to respond.

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

His knees and elbows are throbbing from being thrown to the ground, but Sebastian doesn’t really need to know that.

“What about your incision?” Sebastian asks. “You’re not bleeding, are you?”

Stefano rolls over, hoisting himself up on one elbow to look down at his shirt. There is, at least, no visible blood.

“I do not think so. What about you?”

“I’m alright,” Sebastian says. Stefano is still mildly concerned, because ‘alright’ for Sebastian probably encompasses everything from actually alright to nearly dead.

Unfortunately he’s going to have to take Sebastian’s word for it, because the hall behind him is blocked by a solid wall of rubble. It’s such an improbably solid wall of rubble that it could only happen in Silent Hill, which has apparently decided that he and Sebastian are to be separated again.

“I certainly hope you are,” he says into the radio, “because I do not think I can get to you at the moment.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies. “It’s totally blocked in front of me.”

Stefano heaves a sigh. The lifting of his spirits that came with hearing Sebastian’s voice over the radio is quickly giving way to a cold, creeping sense of dread as it starts to settle in his mind that he is now alone again in Silent Hill.

“We should be able to meet up at the other end of the hall,” Stefano says. “Don’t you think?”

“I hope so,” Sebastian replies. “Are you okay to go on?”

Stefano can’t help but smile. Sebastian’s concern for him is touching. He knows it doesn’t really mean anything, that Sebastian doesn’t have those kinds of feelings for him, that no one will ever have those kinds of feelings for him again. None of that stops him from enjoying how those words make him feel. Just for a moment, he is weak. He allows himself to hope.

“Stefano?”

“Yes, I am quite alright, thank you,” Stefano says. He is shooting for a businesslike tone, but his voice comes out more breathless than brusque. He gets to his feet, turning in a circle to take in his surroundings. “If there was...something here, it does not seem to be here any longer.”

“Good,” Sebastian says. “Let’s hope it stays gone.”

Stefano isn’t sure there’s much hope of that. In fact, he’s not even sure whether what just happened was a result of the monster’s presence or just another manipulation by the town, but he doesn’t want to linger here and risk being buried under more rubble.

Fortunately, the blue light is still illuminating this part of the building. It’s not enough to get a good look at anything, but it’s sufficient to allow him to navigate the hall without a flashlight. He makes the first turn so that he is now looking down the long hallway leading to the other side of the building. The doors on either side of the hall are still standing open, and as Stefano approaches the first one, he braces himself, fully expecting it to slam shut as soon as he comes near.

This door at least has the decency to behave like an inanimate object, and it remains still until Stefano draws abreast of it. Even though his current objective is to reach the other side of the building and reunite with Sebastian, he can’t resist peering into the open door, and what he sees there brings him to a stop.

The room beyond the door is dark, but the opposite wall is illuminated by spotlights, the same kind Stefano has in his gallery, actually, and the choice of lighting is appropriate, because what they illuminate is a huge blow up of a photograph. The image is of a burning house, and Stefano can almost smell the charred structure, can almost hear the crackling flames. It’s a compelling image, but it’s not one he took himself.

He casts about in his mind for where he might have seen this before and comes up with nothing. He doesn’t even realize he’s stepped into the room until he is standing just feet from the picture, caught in its magnetic pull. He’s vaguely aware that this photograph is abnormal, possibly dangerous, and certainly much more influential than it should be. The alarm bells are going off in his head, but they are in the background, not nearly as close or as important as the photo.

He raises the radio to his mouth in one last attempt at self-preservation. “Sebastian?”

There is no answer, and as he tucks the radio away with one hand, the other reaches out to brush the surface of the photo. Just for a moment he feels the heat, and then he is pulled forward.

The house is in front of him now, not in a photograph, but really there. It’s completely engulfed in flame, and even though Stefano is standing at quite some distance from it, he can feel the heat. He only has a few seconds to contemplate this, to wonder what exactly is going on, when someone runs up behind him, and he turns to see a familiar face.

“Sebastian?”

“No! This is not happening!” gasps Sebastian. It’s clearly him, though now that Stefano looks closely, he is wearing different clothes and appears to be a few years younger than he was the last time Stefano saw him. He’s also looking through Stefano at the house.

“Sebastian!” Stefano tries a little more forcefully, but Sebastian only staggers forward, rushing toward the house without sparing Stefano so much as a glance.

Stefano follows behind him, though he’s already beginning to develop an idea of what is going on here. He’s been thrown into his own memories enough times in Silent Hill, and now it certainly looks like he is taking a spectator role in one of Sebastian’s. If that’s the case, he’s not sure what exactly he is supposed to be getting out of this, but his gut tells him to keep Sebastian in sight.

Sebastian runs up to the front door of the house. He doesn’t hesitate, just throws a shoulder into the door, forcing it open, but he only makes it a half-step into the foyer before he is driven back out by the flames.

“Damn it!” he sputters, turning his attention to the glass sliding door on the adjacent patio. He grabs a metal chair from the patio and hurls it through the door, sending glass flying in all directions. 

If Stefano believed there was any chance this was the real Sebastian, rather than some kind of echo in the void of Silent Hill, he would be shouting at him right now to stop and get the hell away from this death trap. Stefano can tell just by the way the flames reach from floor to ceiling that there are no survivors in this house, but Sebastian- or the past Sebastian- is single-minded in his determination to enter the burning building, and he is already springing through the opening. It seems Sebastian has never cared much for self-preservation. 

Stefano does hesitate on the threshold, unsure whether he can be harmed by the fire. His instincts tell him that this is not his memory, that this has no meaning for him and cannot hurt him, but the sight of the flames still has his heart pounding.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the house. He can feel the heat, but he’s sure it’s not as intense as it would be to actually stand in a burning building. Also he seems to be able to breathe relatively normally, while Sebastian has been overtaken by another coughing fit.

“Lily!” he shouts once he has recovered his voice. “Lily! Where are you?”

It’s then that Stefano remembers one of the few things he does know about Sebastian. He knows how this story ends, but of course he can’t communicate that to Sebastian, who is fighting his way through the living room and the kitchen to circle back around to the foyer, where he calls for Lily again before he starts to struggle up the stairs.

Stefano follows, and the fire is even more intense on the second floor. Sebastian is dodging around rubble, ducking under collapsed beams, and still calling out for Lily between fits of coughing and spluttering. Stefano has no idea how Sebastian is even able to stand or speak at all. The smoke up here is so thick that he can barely see Sebastian, but he manages to stay with him until he reaches a door off the second floor hallway. He throws it open, revealing the room beyond.

It’s clearly a child’s room, the brightly colored bedspread and furniture in stark contrast to the inferno raging in the rest of the house. In fact, this room doesn’t seem to be touched by the fire at all. The child- maybe five or six years old- is seated on the bed with her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in her crossed arms.

“Lily!” Sebastian shouts.

The girl raises her head. “Dad?”

“Yes,” Sebastian says, and it is almost painful to hear the relief in his voice, because Stefano knows this isn’t really Lily, that things didn’t really happen this way. Of course, Sebastian must know too, but he’s clearly not thinking rationally at the moment.

“I’m here,” Sebastian continues, extending a hand to Lily. “Come on. Let’s get out of here!”

Lily doesn’t move. “You’re too late,” she says, fixing Sebastian with a hard stare. Her voice is cold, and suddenly she doesn’t sound very much like a child at all. “You’re always too late.”

“No,” Sebastian sobs. He drops to his knees, still reaching out for Lily even as she and her bed burst into flames. Her scream is piercing.

The fire is spreading rapidly to the rest of the room, but Sebastian doesn’t move. He looks utterly defeated, kneeling here on the floor of Lily’s room as his house burns all around him. He lets his hand fall to his side, then raises both hands to bury his face in them. His shoulders slump, and Stefano can almost see the anguish pouring off of him.

More surprisingly, he’s feeling quite a bit of that anguish himself. He is not accustomed to experiencing the emotions of others, but there is something about Sebastian right in this moment that reminds him of himself. It takes him a moment to place the feeling, but then it hits him...helplessness, grief, guilt.

Sebastian was too late to save Lily the same way Stefano himself was helpless to do anything when the grenade went off, the same way neither one of them can resist the forces at work in Silent Hill, though Sebastian seems to be having a much harder time accepting that then Stefano himself. Of course, Stefano has always been more objective than the average person, particularly in situations that tend to induce an emotional response.

Speaking of which, Sebastian is now openly sobbing into his hands, and Stefano is seized with the inexplicable urge to step forward, to place a hand on his shoulder. This is clearly a vision, perhaps a memory, but his chest still aches to see Sebastian in this state. He looks like a man who has lost everything, and the fire is closing in around him.

When Stefano can stand it no more, he does move, crossing the floor to Sebastian and reaching out to touch him, but no sooner do his fingers brush the fabric of Sebastian’s shirt then the house and the fire and Sebastian are all gone, and he is standing in the darkened room in the hospital with his fingers resting on the surface of the photograph.

It is only in this moment of calm that he can feel his heart is pounding. He jerks his hand away from the picture. He has only a vague idea of what just happened, but he doesn’t want it to happen again. Emotions are...strange, inconvenient, and often uncomfortable, and it seems particularly futile to put himself through something like that when he clearly can’t change anything that happened in the vision.

Lily is dead, and Sebastian is devastated, and he is powerless to do anything about it.

The radio buzzes to life, and he jumps in surprise. “Stefano?”

“Sebastian!” he answers, relief washing over him to hear the voice of the, presumably, real Sebastian.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks. “I think I lost you for a second. I...uh..found a picture and then...something happened.”

Stefano realizes in horror that if he is seeing Sebastian’s memories, it is entirely possible that Sebastian is seeing his memories as well.

“What did you see?” he asks, voice coming out a little colder and harsher than he intended.

“I don’t...can we talk about this later?” Sebastian says. “When we meet up, I mean. It’s complicated.”

Stefano has no doubt that it is. “I have some idea what you are referring to,” he says, “though I do not understand the purpose of it.”

“Did you see something from my past?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano swallows hard, but there is no sense in lying. “Yes,” he replies. “And I suppose you saw something from mine.”

“Yes,” Sebastian says. “Look, I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize what would happen.”

“Do not apologize,” Stefano sighs. He should have expected this, as Sebastian seems to be prone to feeling guilty about almost anything. “I very much doubt we have any choice in the matter, but if it makes a difference-” He takes a deep breath. “You have my permission to explore.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, and Stefano can tell by his voice that it does make a difference. “You have mine too.”

Stefano moves out into the hallway. If the other open doors along this hall are any indication, they both have some exploring to do.


	15. Echoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-explicit sexual content in this chapter.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says. “You have mine too.”

It feels strange to give someone permission to access his memories, but strange is the new normal in Silent Hill. Sebastian waits a moment to see if Stefano is going to reply, but the radio is silent, and he can only assume Stefano has resumed his explorations.

Sebastian sighs, a little jealous of how well Stefano seems to be able to take these things in stride. Of course, Stefano has been in Silent Hill longer than he has and seems to be a bit more aloof in general, but Sebastian is still shaking from the experience of entering Stefano’s memory, and it’s hard to believe Stefano isn’t also affected.

Sebastian puts the radio back in his pocket and takes another deep breath, though he’s not sure it’s doing any good. His heart is still pounding and he can feel the sweat collecting at the small of his back.

He is standing in front of the picture. He knows better than to touch it again, but it is still compelling somehow, and he is drawn to it, unable to move away just yet. Even though it’s a still image, Sebastian swears he can see hints of movement, the sand and shrapnel flying up in all directions, the vague outlines of men diving for cover in the background, the figure, almost centered in the frame, caught between life and death.

The face, the eyes of that soldier feel like they are boring into his soul. He had wondered when he first caught sight of this picture whether it was the one Stefano had described, the most important picture he’d ever taken, but once he touched it, once he was transported by it, he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He was actually there in the middle of the explosion but somehow unharmed, with swirling sand and shouting voices all around him.

The man in front of him had crumpled right away, probably dead before he even touched the ground, and Sebastian had turned to find Stefano also collapsed, half-conscious and curled in on himself with his hands over his face, his camera beside him in the sand.

Even as sure as Sebastian was that this was a vision or a memory, a trick of Silent Hill, he couldn’t help but respond to Stefano’s pain, and he was on the ground beside him in an instant, speaking words of comfort and placing his hands on Stefano’s body to try to calm him down. What he was not expecting was to be jerked back from this world into the dark room with the photograph as soon as he made contact. He was reeling from that experience and still bursting with the urge to comfort when he called Stefano on the radio.

Hearing Stefano’s voice did help to calm his nerves a little, but standing here looking at the photo, Sebastian finds himself back in that moment in the desert. It was only a moment, but the emotions last much longer- the fear, the shock, the rush of adrenaline. Sebastian has had those moments before during his time on the police force- many of them, in fact- but it doesn’t make it any easier to come down from one.

After a few more deep breaths he is able to turn away from the picture and convince his feet to walk him out of the darkened room into the hallway beyond. Now his mind turns to what Stefano said to him on the radio, to the knowledge that Stefano saw something from his own past. He has no idea what that could have been, but hopefully nothing too embarrassing. He isn’t sure what Silent Hill considers an event significant enough to warrant one of these strange encounters, but he is willing to bet that it is something fairly emotionally intense.

There are still two open doors ahead of him, and he wonders if he shouldn’t just hurry past them, avoid even looking for fear of being drawn in the way he was with the last one, but some part of him is curious about Stefano, and Stefano did give him permission to explore after all. So when he reaches the door to the next room, he lets his feet carry him over the threshold.

This room is much like the last, dark except for one well-illuminated photograph on the opposite wall. Like the other photograph, this one is large enough to be almost life-size in scale, but it shows a row of multi-tiered beds that could only be military barracks. It’s the kind of generic image that might accompany a soft news story about life in a war zone. Nothing about it seems particularly noteworthy, and Sebastian wonders why Stefano decided to document it.

Of course, there’s one way to find out. This time, he doesn’t hesitate and reaches out a hand to touch the surface of the picture. He is not surprised when, in the next moment, he finds himself in the room from the photo.

The air is hot and dry and smells vaguely of sweat. The windows are mostly covered with crude canvas shades, but the afternoon sun is filtering in around them. At first, the barracks appear to be empty, but as Sebastian walks down the row between the beds, the sound of muffled laughter reaches his ears, and he spots Stefano, stifling a laugh behind his hand, lying in one of the bunks. His face is inches away from the face of another young man who is also laughing, and before Sebastian has a chance to figure out what they are finding so amusing, their faces are melded together in a kiss that lacks technique but makes up for it in enthusiasm.

Sebastian’s first reaction is that he should get out of here and give these young lovers some privacy, but then he realizes that, for all intents and purposes, he isn’t actually here, and apparently there is something here that the town wants him to see. Just to confirm his theory, he clears his throat loudly, but neither of the other two men reacts, so it seems he is merely an observer in these events.

Stefano’s mantra of ‘observe and document’ runs through Sebastian’s head, but it leaves him with an uncomfortable feeling. He’s a man of action, and it’s not in his nature to simply watch things play out, but it seems that here he has no other choice. He steps carefully around the untidy tangle of clothes on the floor and takes a seat on one of the other bunks, close enough to see and hear Stefano but not so close that he feels he is intruding any more than necessary into what is clearly supposed to be a very private moment.

Stefano and his lover have broken apart by this time, both panting in excitement. Stefano is blushing, and the other young man is blushing, and Sebastian’s face feels several degrees warmer than usual, so he’s pretty sure he’s blushing too. This scene is so much softer than what he has come to expect from Silent Hill, and he isn’t sure what, if anything, that means.

Sebastian is also struck by how young Stefano looks. Neither he nor his lover can be more than twenty, and every move they make speaks of the recklessness of youth. They are clearly trying to be quiet, but they’re doing a terrible job of it. The bunk is squeaking under their combined weight, and the tentative hand movements they make under the thin sheet are often met with gasps or exclamations or more laughter.

When Sebastian has adjusted to the idea of seeing Stefano in an intimate moment, and the idea of seeing Stefano with two eyes, he turns his attention to the other man. Like Stefano, he has jet black hair, cut short and rather messy at the moment, presumably from rolling around in bed, but his dark skin stands in stark contrast to Stefano’s paleness. He is handsome, with strong, angular features that go slack in an expression of pleasure when Stefano’s hand dips down below the sheet and presses against his body.

The scene playing out before Sebastian is charged with sexual tension of course, but the overall tone is so relaxed, almost playful, that it sparks fond memories of Sebastian’s own first time experiencing this kind of intimacy. There are equal amounts of kissing, touching, laughing, and awkward changes in position until they reach what seems to be a mutually satisfying arrangement, pressed chest to chest with hands moving in between them. Sebastian doesn’t have to be able to see to know what’s going on down there, and the way they moan and clutch at each other has him feeling a little excited as well.

Sebastian has never considered himself particularly straight or particularly gay. He met Myra the first day of the KCPD Academy and fell for her almost immediately, but some of the feelings he had for Joseph were...not unlike the feelings he had for Myra. He never explored them of course. He and Joseph were both family men, and being unfaithful was something that had never crossed his mind, but his deep admiration for Joseph was something more than a simple friendship or partnership, and now, watching these two he wonders if he could have had a fulfilling relationship with a man. He is certainly not averse to the idea…

“Andre,” moans Stefano, and hearing his voice like this sends a jolt of arousal shooting through Sebastian’s belly. “I’m...”

“It’s alright,” Andre murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead against Stefano’s, to plant a kiss on Stefano’s lips. “I’ve got you.”

In a few more strokes they are both moaning out loud, muscles flexing and releasing under the sheet as they press close together one more time, then collapse onto the mattress. Stefano is still gasping for breath, but Andre’s hand finds his, and their hands rest, fingers intertwined, on Stefano’s chest.

Andre’s eyes are closed, and if Sebastian had any doubts about who he was, they are gone now, because Andre’s face in sleep is just as peaceful and relaxed as it was in death. It is the same face he saw in the other picture, and it dawns on him just how much that picture must mean to Stefano, just how much Stefano lost in the desert that day when the grenade went off.

He is standing in the dark room in front of the photograph again, and he is almost sad this time. That warm, youthful afternoon in the barracks may be gone forever, but he hopes that the soft, playful side of Stefano isn’t.

He picks up his radio. “Stefano?”

There is a slight delay before Stefano replies, “Yes?”

“How are you holding up?”

“I am alright, I suppose,” Stefano says.

“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Sebastian observes.

“I am not too sure about that,” Stefano says. “I am having some...rather unusual feelings.”

Sebastian is having some rather unusual feelings as well. “Then I guess we’ll have a lot to talk about when we meet up again.”

“Indeed,” Stefano replies. Sebastian has the impression he is about to say something else, but the radio goes quiet.

“How many doors do you have left?” Sebastian asks.

“Only one.”

“Same here. I guess I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.”

“Take care,” Stefano says. It brings a smile to Sebastian’s face, because Stefano of all people should know how bad he is at taking care of himself by now. Of course, he did promise Stefano he would try to do a better job of that.

“I’ll try,” he says. “You be careful too.”

“I am always careful,” Stefano says, but his tone is light, almost teasing, and Sebastian catches just a glimpse of the young man he saw in the last memory. Then the radio is silent, and he is alone with his thoughts and one last door to go through.

He makes his way to that door, unsure what the town could possibly want to show him now. There is undoubtedly much he does not know about Stefano, but after experiencing two memories that were so different in tone he has no idea what to expect.

The picture this time is of a townhouse or apartment building. It looks unremarkable to Sebastian, but of course there is no telling what tricks Silent Hill has up its sleeve. He reaches out his hand, lets the picture draw him in, and finds himself standing in what must be the backyard of the building from the photograph.

He only has a moment to appreciate the scenery before a terrible crash sounds from inside the house, followed by a man’s voice shouting in a language Sebastian does not know. Based on what he does know of Stefano’s past, he assumes it’s Italian. This is followed by more crashing, as though furniture or objects are being thrown about, and then Sebastian hears another voice, this one belonging to a young man or maybe an older child, shouting back. This voice has a pleading tone to it, but the first voice is shouting as well, angrier than before, and after a few more seconds of this the back door to the house flies open and a person who Sebastian immediately recognizes as fifteen year old Stefano springs out of it and dashes across the backyard.

Stefano looks over his shoulder, presumably to see if he’s being chased, but the door to the house slams shut behind him, and whoever the man is who is so angry at Stefano, he remains inside. Stefano jogs the last few steps to the fence surrounding the yard, vaults over it, and sinks to the ground on the other side. He sits, resting his back against the fence, breathing hard. His face is scrunched up as though he’s holding back tears, and much like in the other memory, Sebastian wants to go to him, to wrap his arms around him and tell him it’s going to be alright. He restrains himself in part because he knows Stefano won’t even know he’s there and in part because he’s afraid that touching Stefano might end the scene prematurely.

Stefano sits for a few seconds, breathing hard and scrubbing at his face with his hands, before the backdoor opens and closes again. Stefano jumps and freezes, apparently waiting to see who has come out, but Sebastian can see that it’s a little girl coming across the yard. She’s about Lily’s age...or she’s about the age Lily was the last time Sebastian saw her- five or six-, and she has dark hair like Lily. It brings a lump to Sebastian’s throat just looking at her.

The girl opens the gate and peers around it, making eye contact with Stefano, who heaves a sigh of relief but quickly tries to hide it.

“Aria,” he scolds. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing your violin?”

Sebastian doesn’t know if Stefano is actually speaking English or whether this is something Silent Hill is doing for his benefit, but he is happy to be able to understand what is going on again.

“I was worried about you,” Aria says. She plops down on the grass beside Stefano, her blue dress spreading out all around her. It brings a smile to Sebastian’s face, because Lily was the same way, always playing outside in the grass and dirt, even in her dress clothes. “Why do you have to make Papa so angry?”

“I make him so angry just by existing,” Stefano says bitterly.

“No you don’t,” Aria replies, “and don’t you want to be like him? Be brave and fight in the war?”

Stefano shakes his head. “There is no war going on right now, and no, that’s not what I want. I just want to create art.” His voice isn’t harsh, just weary, as though he’s had this discussion many times already in one form or another.

“Papa says art is for girls,” Aria pipes up, with that tone small children take when they absolutely know the world to be the way they say it is.

“Yes, he tells me that quite often, but he’s wrong,” Stefano says.

Aria frowns, clearly trying to process the possibility that her father might not be right about everything. It makes Sebastian’s chest hurt a little bit, because he remembers when he used to be like that to Lily, when she used to look at him like he knew everything there was to know. Of course, he can already tell that he and Stefano’s father have very different parenting styles.

“He just wants you to be happy like he is,” Aria says finally, though she doesn’t sound as certain this time.

Stefano smirks to himself, but then flashes his sister a smile that is kind and genuine. “I am not sure he is as happy as he likes us to think he is.”

“Of course he is,” Aria says. “He got married and had a family. Don’t you want to do that?”

Stefano lets his head fall back against the fence and brings a hand up to cover his eyes. “Of course I want that, but it’s...it’s complicated.” He sounds like he is holding back tears again.

Aria leans over and wraps her arms around him. “It’s okay,” she says. “I’ll be your family.”

That gets a laugh out of Stefano. “Well, I don’t think we have much choice about that,” he says, wrapping an arm around her to hug her back, “but I’ll be your family too.”

Aria springs to her feet with a big smile, the kind Lily used to wear when she was feeling especially mischievous. “Good,” she says. “Can we go on a walk before dinner?”

“Yes.” Stefano gets to his feet as well, with a cautious glance back at the house. “I think that might be a good idea.”

As the two of them walk away down the garden path, the vision fades away before Sebastian, leaving him in the darkened room again. This time, Sebastian’s heart is heavy. He may not have been able to understand what Stefano’s father was shouting at him, but he is certain that the argument was about more than just art.

It hits him hard, not just as someone who was once Stefano’s age, but as a father. Lily was so young when she died that Sebastian has never really considered what his reaction would have been if she had ever shared that kind of information with him. He knows he’s not always the best at controlling himself, but he loved Lily unconditionally.

For a moment, anger at Stefano’s father burns hot inside him. There is something utterly wrong about rejecting one’s child because of who they are. It’s unforgivable, and Sebastian knows he would handle it better. He can’t imagine ever doing anything to make his child feel like that.

That memory does give some context for the one that came just before it as well. Sebastian can only imagine how liberated Stefano must have felt being away from home for the first time, finally free to pursue his choice of partners, though surely he and Andre must have had to conceal their activities from the other soldiers.

He hasn’t gotten too far into this line of thought when his radio crackles to life, but this time, it’s not the comfort of Stefano’s voice he hears. It’s a rhythmic, percussive noise, like the pulsing and grinding of some great machine. For some reason, it sends a shiver through Sebastian’s body just to hear it, nevermind the implications for why this sound is coming over his radio. He depresses the button.

“Stefano?”

There is no answer, and when he releases the button on the radio, it is silent.

“Stefano?”

“Yes, Sebastian.”

It’s Stefano’s voice, but it’s flat, listless.

“Are you alright? My radio’s acting up.”

There is a long pause before Stefano answers.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.” There is another pause during which the mic is open before Stefano adds, “I think I may sit down for a few minutes.”

Something about Stefano sounds off somehow...the quality of his voice or the cadence of his speech, maybe. Whatever it is, it makes Sebastian uneasy.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replies. “Why don’t you keep going until we can meet up. Then we’ll find somewhere to rest.”

Stefano’s voice comes back soft, almost hypnotic. “I’m perfectly safe here, Sebastian. And I am so tired…”

The rhythmic thrumming is back in force. The volume of it rises until it overpowers Stefano’s voice, until it’s the only thing Sebastian can hear over the radio. He doesn’t know what he’s hearing, but it makes his blood run cold, spurs him to action.

He bolts out of the room and takes off down the hallway toward Stefano. He can’t be too late again.


	16. In Media Res

Stefano can’t help the faint smile creeping onto his face as he approaches the next door. He hadn’t expected it to matter so much to him to have Sebastian’s permission to explore his memories, but it makes him feel special somehow, as though he has been entrusted with great responsibility. In truth, he probably has.

Sebastian has already proven himself to be a bit more open than Stefano himself when it comes to revealing information about his past, but Stefano is sure that anything Sebastian might tell him voluntarily pales in comparison to what Silent Hill wants to show him. This is a completely new kind of vulnerability for both of them, and Stefano is determined to prove he is qualified to handle it.

Stefano knows there is something rather different about how he perceives the world, knows that the minds of others work differently from his own. He has come to terms with this, and generally he views others with a sort of detached curiosity. Sometimes people interest him, but they do not move him. The lives of others generally do not affect his own life in any way, but he has met people before who are exceptions to that rule, and it looks like Sebastian is shaping up to be one of those people.

Unfortunately, life seems to be determined to beat Sebastian down if the picture in the next room he enters is any indication. The image is of the inside of a house, though Stefano doesn’t think it’s the same house from the last memory. The foreground is dark, but the background is brightly lit, and two figures stand, one on either side of the frame, facing away from each other.

This one does actually have very nice composition, and Stefano pauses for a moment to admire it before he remembers that he is not here to evaluate the artistic merit of the images presented to him. Despite all appearances, this isn’t a picture in a gallery. This is a snapshot of Sebastian’s past. He raises a hand and allows himself to be drawn into the world of the photograph.

Before anyone can speak, before anyone can move, Stefano can feel the tension in the air, as thick as the smoke from the burning house, and twice as uncomfortable to breathe in. There is nothing remarkable about the temperature of the room, but Stefano still feels chilled to the bone.

One of the figures turns around to face the other.

“Myra,” Sebastian says, and Stefano can see that this Sebastian looks much more like the one he knows, the one who is here in Silent Hill with him. Something has aged Sebastian between the last memory and this one, though Stefano doesn’t know if it’s the passage of time or the stresses of life.

Sebastian’s eyes are downcast, and he shakes his head, seemingly at loss for words, before he draws in a deep breath and continues, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say that I haven’t already said a hundred times.”

“It’s not about what you say.” Myra whirls around to face Sebastian, her voice already rising in anger. “It’s about your actions. You can say all day long that you’re going to spend less time at work, that you’re going to make more time for your family, but it doesn’t matter if you never do anything about it.”

Sebastian looks utterly devastated, but Myra presses on. “You weren’t there, Sebastian. You weren’t there when we needed you, and you hadn’t been there in a long time.”

Sebastian nods. “I was too late,” he says, voice flat, devoid of expression. “I was too late to save her.”

Stefano can’t help but think that Myra is being rather harsh with Sebastian, and Sebastian is being a little harsh with himself, because no one was going to rescue Lily from the inferno he saw in the last memory, and he doubts it would have made any difference if Sebastian had gotten there earlier. But Sebastian’s shoulders are slumped in defeat, and whether the blame Myra is heaping on him is reasonable or not, he seems to accept it.

“And now you won’t even help me look for her,” Myra says, taking a step toward Sebastian, arms outstretched.

Sebastian looks up at her, and his expression changes. “Myra,” he says, and this time his voice is softer, kinder. “We’ve talked about this. She’s...she’s dead, Myra. We can’t look for her.”

“We can,” Myra insists, letting her arms fall back to her sides, “but you won’t. You just keep on going about your life like nothing happened! Like she never existed! When was the last time you even cried for Lily?”

“I can’t cry anymore,” Sebastian says, shaking his head. “I don’t know why. I just can’t.”

Stefano feels a lump coming to his throat at that, because he knows that feeling. He remembers the pain, the emptiness gnawing at his insides, remembers weeping for Andre for days, weeks even, his damaged eye socket burning as the tears leaked out into it. And he remembers the numbness. He was still empty, but it wasn’t tearing at him the way it had before. He was still in despair, but he had no more tears. He was exhausted, beaten down, a shell of the man he once was.

It took him years to be anything more than that empty shell, and when he looks at Sebastian in this memory it all comes rushing back.

“She’s your daughter!” Myra insists.

“She _was_ our daughter,” Sebastian replies firmly. He takes a deep breath, as though he knows his next words are not going to be well-received. “Myra, would you please consider talking to someone about this?”

“What?” snaps Myra. “Why? Because there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” Sebastian says quickly, raising a hand in front of him, “because you’ve experienced a traumatic event. We both have-”

“Then why am I the only one who’s acting like it?” Myra shoots back.

The look on Sebastian’s face makes it clear that he really does not want to answer that question, but he doesn’t have to because in the next moment Myra bursts into tears and buries her face in her hands. Sebastian inches closer, looking the whole time as though he is afraid she might have another outburst, until he is close enough to place a hand on her shoulder.

“Myra-”

“Don’t touch me!” She jerks away from Sebastian, still sobbing, and raises her head, tears streaming down her face. “Who are you? What happened to the man I married?”

Sebastian only stares back, apparently struck dumb, and Myra turns on her heel and rushes out of the room. A door slams somewhere else in the house a few seconds later.

Sebastian walks the few steps to the kitchen table on shaky legs and sinks into a chair. He rakes a hand through his hair, still staring after Myra.

“I don’t know,” he whispers to no one.

The scene fades to white, as though someone has opened the aperture all the way, and when it ends, Stefano is very nearly blind in the sudden darkness of the gallery. He runs through the exchange he just observed again in his mind. He may not understand the loss of a child, but he does, broadly speaking, understand loss.

Sebastian hasn’t told him very much about Myra, except that Lily’s death had been the thing to drive them apart. It certainly seems like that’s what was happening in the memory he just observed, though Sebastian didn’t mention how out of touch with reality Myra seemed to be.

Stefano has never had to navigate the more complicated aspects of relationships, as the only one he has ever experienced ended before it had even truly begun. The scene he just saw leaves him feeling empty, which Stefano finds rather ridiculous, until he realizes that the loss he is feeling is probably not Sebastian’s but his own.

He has spent years trying to move on, carefully controlling his thoughts and feelings, remembering only as much as he can without breaking. And now it feels as though some sort of void has opened up inside of him, and he fears that it will never be filled, that it will eventually open up and swallow him. The pain, the longing rises up in his chest, forces the air out of his lungs, and he cannot breathe. His heart is racing as he sucks in short gasps of air, fighting the panic that is taking root as he tries and fails to get oxygen into his lungs.

His radio crackles to life. “Stefano?”

Sebastian’s voice is calm, soothing, the same way it was downstairs when he was drawing him out of that dark place, the same way it was in the operating room, and now it works to loosen the grip of fear that is crushing his chest. He manages one short breath, then another, and then a longer one. The tension isn’t gone, but it is more manageable, less immediately threatening. 

When he can trust his voice to work, he pulls the radio out of his pocket and presses the button to reply. “Yes?” He is pleased with how composed his voice sounds under the circumstances.

“How are you holding up?”

Perhaps it is the lingering effects of what he saw in the memory, but Sebastian sounds subdued, as though he isn’t holding up particularly well himself even as he worries about how Stefano is faring. It reminds Stefano of someone else who was looking out for him, even at the expense of his own safety, and without warning that lump is back in his throat. He clears it before he responds.

“I am alright, I suppose.” It’s the best he can do to describe his current state. After all, these are just memories, and not even his own memories at that. They cannot hurt him. They should not affect him at all, and yet he still feels not himself somehow.

“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Sebastian replies.

“I am not too sure about that,” Stefano agrees. “I am having some...rather unusual feelings.”

It’s not even so much that the feelings themselves are unusual as that it is quite unusual for him to experience subjective emotions at all, at least when someone else is concerned. He is quite capable of those feelings. His time with Andre was proof enough of that, but in the aftermath of that time in his life, he has learned so much. He has trained himself to shut those feelings away- not just to hide them from others, but not to experience them in the first place, and for years he didn’t.

This town has been slowly chipping away at him though, wearing him down the same way an interrogator wears down his subject- in subtle ways like stress, sleep deprivation, psychological manipulation, as well as with the more obvious threats of violence and appeals to past traumas. Now the cracks are starting to appear in his psyche, in his very self, and he has to fight to keep from breaking apart completely. He won’t give the town the satisfaction of breaking him.

Sebastian has a simpler way of summing up the situation.

“Then I guess we’ll have a lot to talk about when we meet up again.”

“Indeed,” Stefano replies, once again amazed at how simply talking to Sebastian is able to calm these new and turbulent emotions. Of course, their eventual reunion is likely to stir up a very different set of feelings, though Stefano can’t say that those ones are entirely unwelcome. He is pondering this when Sebastian speaks again.

“How many doors do you have left?”

“Only one.”

“Same here. I guess I’ll talk to you in a few minutes.”

“Take care,” Stefano says, trying to ignore the way his heart is beating a little faster at even the thought of being able to talk to Sebastian face-to-face again. In order for that to be possible, he reminds himself, Sebastian will have to actually take care of himself, and he is notoriously ill-equipped to do that.

“I’ll try,” Sebastian says. “You be careful too.”

“I am always careful,” Stefano says. It’s the truth. He guards himself well, body and mind, and despite Silent Hill’s best efforts to break through those defenses, he’s not giving up yet.

He waits a moment, but Sebastian doesn’t speak again, so he turns to the door.

His vision has now adjusted to the darkness of the gallery, so he has no trouble making his way back into the hall. He approaches the final open door with a kind of nervous excitement. This is the last door, the last glimpse into Sebastian’s past, and he has no idea what to expect as he steps into the room.

He is certainly not expecting what he sees in the picture, because this picture doesn’t look like anything he’s ever seen, maybe not even like anything that exists in the world. He is looking at the ruins of a massive building, maybe some great castle or cathedral that has fallen into disrepair. Even in the bright daylight, the place retains an aura of mystery, of grandeur that immediately draws Stefano in. The pull of this picture is magnetic, and before he knows it he is standing there on a wooden platform near the top of this massive structure.

He is so entranced by the sprawling architecture, which is impressive even in its state of decay, that he has forgotten all about Sebastian until he hears shouting voices off to his left, and turns to see Sebastian and another man dashing up the steps and into view on top of one of the adjacent stone buildings.

Sebastian is holding some sort of crossbow, and the other man has a long-handled axe. Both of them are dressed the way Stefano imagines detectives dress, or perhaps the way detectives dress in the movies, and Stefano has to wonder if this is the partner Sebastian talked about before. His suspicion is confirmed rather quickly.

There is a sudden high-pitched noise, like something rushing through the air at a great speed, and then Sebastian is in motion.

“Joseph!” he shouts, grabbing the other man by the arm and yanking him up against a stone wall.

It’s not a moment too soon. The platform where they are standing is suddenly being pelted with arrows, and before Stefano can even figure out where they are coming from, all hell breaks loose.

There is a garbled shout from below, and then several men are rushing up the stairs and across the platform toward Sebastian and Joseph. Or at least they resemble men on a superficial level. When some of them pass quite close to Stefano, he can see that they are not so much men as nightmarish, zombie-like creatures with a vaguely human shape. Some of them are missing limbs or have huge gashes on their bodies through which their entrails are protruding. Some have barbed wire or pieces of metal debris lodged deep in their rotting flesh.

It makes him shudder to look at, but Sebastian and Joseph don’t seem particularly surprised by the appearance of these enemies. They spring into action, ducking and dodging and swinging and firing into the hordes. It’s actually quite impressive to watch the two detectives, who are severely outnumbered, confidently dispatching one enemy after another. Sebastian cycles between various weapons with ease, choosing the best one for each situation, and Joseph is quite deadly with just his axe.

The fighting is moving closer and closer to Stefano, as Sebastian and Joseph force back the masses across one of the narrow wooden walkways. Stefano is less afraid than intrigued, as the rules of this place don’t allow him to be seen, much less harmed by the enemies.

Joseph has just sent another zombie hurtling to its death...or undeath, Stefano supposes, when a second one dashes forward, catching Joseph off-balance and knocking him from the platform. There is a brief moment where Stefano is sure he is going to fall to his death, because it is a treacherously long way down, but he manages to catch the edge of the walkway with the fingers of one hand.

Sebastian notices instantly. “Joseph!” He shouts, looking frantically back and forth between Joseph and the crowd of enemies still closing in on them. He pulls the shotgun from his back and fires once in each direction, driving the zombies back enough to get some breathing room. Then he drops to his knees, clasping Joseph’s arm and hauling him back onto the walkway in one swift motion.

Joseph is on his feet in the blink of an eye and swinging his axe, which he miraculously has not dropped, into the approaching horde. Sebastian gets back to fighting as well, and in less than a minute, they’ve cleared the platform of enemies. For a moment, the tension remains as they both scan the ruins around them for any movement, for any lingering threats, but then Sebastian exhales audibly and allows his shoulders to slump. He crosses to the platform where Stefano is standing in just a few steps and sinks down to the ground, leaning back against a partially destroyed wall. Joseph follows, taking a seat beside him.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian breathes.

“Indeed,” Joseph replies, and Stefano almost laughs, because this sounds a lot like the beginning of some of the conversations he himself has been having with Sebastian recently.

“Do you think there are more of them?” Sebastian asks, looking like he sincerely hopes there are not.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Joseph says. “Probably right on the other side of that door.” He gestures to the large stone door at one end of the structure. Sebastian groans.

“Thanks for the assist back there.” Joseph nods to the spot on the walkway where he nearly fell during the melee.

“Of course,” Sebastian says, giving Joseph a pat on the thigh. For Stefano, it’s a strangely intimate gesture between two men, but neither one of them seems to think it’s anything unusual. “What, did you think I was going to leave you there?”

Joseph laughs. “Well, I would certainly hope not, but you did seem a bit preoccupied.”

“Hey,” Sebastian says, turning so that he can look Joseph in the face, “we’re in this together. Don’t you forget that.”

Joseph nods solemnly, and for a few seconds, they sit in silence.

“Ready to get moving?” Joseph asks.

“If I can get up,” Sebastian replies, rolling his shoulders with a grunt. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this constant-near-death-experience bullshit.”

“No one’s cut out for this” Joseph says, pushing himself up to his feet and offering a hand to Sebastian. “But I’m not giving up on you yet.”

Sebastian takes Joseph’s hand, and Joseph helps him up off the ground.

“Guess that means I can’t give up on you either,” Sebastian says with a lopsided smile.

“That’s right,” Joseph says as the two two of them start to walk away. “In this together.”

The words pierce Stefano’s chest like a dagger. It actually causes him to double over in pain as the scene before him fades away and he finds himself once more in the darkened gallery. He still doesn’t know the exact circumstances under which Sebastian and Joseph became separated in STEM, but it is clear that at some point they were no longer ‘in this together’.

When they were together though, Sebastian and Joseph were apparently a force to be reckoned with. In the memory he just saw, they dispatched a huge number of enemies with relative ease, and it makes Stefano wonder how long it has been since Sebastian has had a true partner. He suspects Joseph may have been the last person to fill that role.

That thought is immediately followed by another: the question of whether he has ever had that kind of partnership with someone. He and Andre were very close in some ways but they were brought together by circumstance rather than commonality, and Stefano has to acknowledge that they had very different jobs and very different interests.

His final thought on the matter is not one that he particularly wants to have, but he has to wonder if he could ever truly be partners with someone like Andre or Sebastian. He does feel like he understands Sebastian significantly better after these excursions into his memories, and perhaps Sebastian is beginning to understand him a bit more as well. Stefano can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

His mind is a very private place, not one that he is accustomed to sharing with many- or any- other people, but Silent Hill seems to have taken that choice away from him. He wonders what Sebastian may have seen while they’ve been separated, what he may have to explain when they reunite.

Come to think of it, he should probably check in with Sebastian now that he has investigated the final door. He straightens up, takes out his radio, and is about to press the button to speak when he realizes he is no longer alone in this room.

“Andre?”

“Stefano.”

He turns to the corner by the door to see his old friend, his old lover. Andre looks much the same as he did in life, though like the last time, he is seated in a wheelchair. It makes Stefano wonder briefly what things could have been like if Andre had survived the explosion, if they could have recovered together, if they could have had something that endured beyond those stolen moments in the barracks.

Andre reaches out a hand toward him. “Come here. It’s been too long.”

The gesture is familiar, but it still sets off alarm bells in Stefano’s head. By all appearances, this is Andre. This is someone who would not harm him, but Andre is dead, and Stefano isn’t foolish enough to believe that something truly paranormal is going on here. No, the ‘ghosts’ in Silent Hill are memories, defects in his brain given form- and influence- by some strange power of the town, and what would otherwise be seen as a comforting gesture has all the hallmarks of a trap. He stands his ground.

“What’s wrong?” Andre asks, letting his hand drop back to his side. “You came here because I called you. I would have thought you’d be happier to see me.”

Part of Stefano screams that this is a vision, a hallucination, that he should ignore it rather than grant it any power over him, but the face and the voice that he knows so well draw out a response anyway. “You are not real. You cannot be real.”

Andre laughs, and it’s the same one Stefano remembers from so many years ago. “You knew that when you came here. Besides, I’m about as real as anything else here.”

Stefano shakes his head. “None of it is real.” The words seem to echo in his head, his own voice harsh, dissonant to his ears.

Andre’s voice, by comparison, is warm even though his next words are a bit of a shock. “No, it isn’t, but none of it ever was real to you, was it? You watched everything play out from behind your camera lens, but you might as well have been on the other side of the world watching us on the news.”

“No,” Stefano says, though his words lack the emphasis he wants to put on them. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, and there is a thick fog in his brain. He struggles to form more words. “That’s... not true. I was there… I was there.”

“Then you have nothing to fear from what I will show you,” Andre says. In the blink of an eye, he is right next to Stefano, still seated in his wheelchair, but reaching out his hand again.

The fog isn’t just in Stefano’s brain anymore. It’s all around him. He can’t see any of the features of the room now, not the picture, not the door. All he can see is Andre, and even he is starting to fade away into the fog.

“Take my hand,” Andre prompts. “Let me help you again.”

The floor feels like it is tilting underneath him, and he sways on the spot, making a wild grab for Andre’s hand and catching it. Immediately, the feeling of vertigo stops, and the fog clears. Stefano is standing safely on the ground again, and he feels a rush of gratitude toward Andre for putting things back in order, for saving him from falling, from drifting away.

Another voice breaks in. This one comes from the radio still in his hand. “Stefano?”

It doesn’t strike Stefano as important, but Andre says, “You need to answer that.”

Stefano does not break eye contact with Andre as he raises the radio to his mouth and presses the button.

“Yes, Sebastian.”

“Are you alright? My radio’s acting up.”

He knows Sebastian’s voice and he knows each of the words Sebastian is saying, but when they are all strung together like that it’s difficult to make sense of them. Fortunately Andre is there to help.

“Yes, you’re fine,” Andre says. “Just a bit tired.”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit tired,” Stefano repeats into the radio. 

“You think you may sit down for a few minutes,” Andre says.

“I think I may sit down for a few minutes.”

Sebastian’s voice comes back immediately. There is some kind of emotion there- worry, perhaps- but it doesn’t seem terribly important at the moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Why don’t you keep going until we can meet up. Then we’ll find somewhere to rest.”

Andre smiles faintly before he says, “You’re perfectly safe here, Sebastian. And you are so tired.”

Stefano depresses the button on the radio one more time. “I’m perfectly safe here, Sebastian. And I am so tired…”


	17. Sleepwalking

The air raid siren blares, and Stefano remembers a time when he and Andre would have huddled together with the other soldiers in the barracks, waiting for danger to pass. This time, though, the siren’s warning feels much more dire, and he is no longer sure if he is in the company of friends. 

Even as he holds onto Andre’s hand like a lifeline, even as he speaks the words Andre feeds him, Stefano knows something is wrong. Andre’s hand is cold and still in his, not at all like it was in life. He might as well be holding the hand of a corpse. For all he knows, he is holding the hand of a corpse.

Andre’s voice is in his ear again, somehow audible over the howling of the siren. It doesn’t seem quite right either. It’s technically correct, hitting the pitch and the inflections of speech the way that Andre would have, but somehow it is even colder than Andre’s flesh. There is no emotion in it, no acknowledgement of the relationship they had. One of the things Stefano loved about Andre was that the other man could set his heart racing with a glance or a touch or a whispered word. Stefano’s heart is racing now for an entirely different reason.

“Come,” Andre says. “I have something to show you.”

The siren grows louder and louder. By this point, whatever power held him in the town’s thrall is broken, and Stefano is certain that he has no desire to see whatever it is that this ghost...this echo of his former lover wants to show him, but he is equally certain that if he does not comply, the town will find some way to bend him to its will, so he nods and follows Andre out of the room and down the hall.

Andre’s wheelchair seems to move on its own, or at least, without the need for Andre to use his hands, one of which is still clasped in Stefano’s. Stefano wishes he would let go. This contact is a cruel mockery of the way Andre used to hold him, and he is sure no good can come of it. They proceed down the hall until they reach a set of double doors just at the intersection of this hallway and the next one.

Quite suddenly, the siren stops. Stefano can’t resist glancing off to the right in hopes of catching sight of Sebastian, who should be coming from that direction. For an instant, he swears he can see a flash of light in the dark hallway, but the next moment it is gone, and he looks back down at Andre.

“You are looking for your friend,” Andre observes, and Stefano wonders how Andre can even see him, as he is still facing the double doors and hasn’t turned his head. “Do you really think he will come for you?”

Stefano hesitates. His head says no, that there is no reason for Sebastian to continue to help him, that they have worked together so far because his prior experience in the town offered Sebastian a better chance of survival, but that Sebastian now knows what to expect and has no more need of him. He is a burden on Sebastian the same way he was a burden on Andre, and Sebastian will be happy to be rid of him and probably better off for it.

Another voice says that of course Sebastian will come for him. This one is smaller, quieter, but compelling in a way that the dominant voice is not.

“Yes,” he says.

Andre laughs, and it is a cold, bitter sound. “You’re probably right,” he says, “and you can leave him to his death the same way you left me to mine.”

That one cuts him to the bone, literally leaves him gasping for air at the memory, at the look on Andre’s face, the one he immortalized on film, the one he has seen every day since in his mind, the one he is sure he’ll continue to see for the rest of his life. Despite all of this, part of him knows that it’s a little unfair of Andre to characterize the situation the way he has.

“I...I didn’t leave you,” he says. “There was nothing I could have done.”

“Maybe not,” Andre says, “but we’ll never know because you didn’t even try to do anything. Just stood there clicking that blasted camera like you always did...observe and document.”

Stefano opens his mouth to reply, but Andre cuts him off.

“I hope you’ve got that camera now,” he says darkly, “because you’re going to have something else to document soon.”

“What do you mean?” Stefano asks. Andre’s words send a chill up his spine.

Andre doesn’t answer but raises a hand, palm facing the double doors, which swing open into a large room. It is quite dark inside, and there is something deeply unsettling about it. For the first time, Stefano seriously considers the possibility of releasing Andre’s hand and running for his life, but as though he can sense Stefano’s thoughts, Andre tightens his grip for just a moment, and all hope of escape is dashed. There can be no escape from Silent Hill.

He follows Andre forward into the room, and even though it is quite dark, he can see that the room is circular in shape. They are standing on a sort of balcony that runs the entire circumference of the room, almost as though this area was designed for viewing, and Stefano wonders momentarily if this was a teaching hospital at some point, then realizes it probably doesn’t matter.

Stefano can’t see the floor below them, though he assumes that whatever was being viewed would take place down there on the first floor. He and Andre circle to the opposite side of the room from the doors before Andre stops and his wheelchair turns to face the doors on the other side of the balcony.

Stefano is about to ask if there is something he is supposed to be looking for, when a figure dashes through the still open doors, and it’s someone Stefano would recognize anywhere.

“Sebastian!”

  
  
  
  


The siren goes off again as Sebastian rounds the corner at the end of the hall. It’s the same one he’s heard so many times before as he races to a service call the same way he is racing to save Stefano now. Of course, he hasn’t always made it in time, and he has vivid memories of victims who bled out before he could get there, of perpetrators who escaped into the night. Those memories claw at the edges of his consciousness, but he can’t entertain them right now. He’s been too late before. He was too late for Lily. He can’t be too late for Stefano.

There are two closed doors on one side of the hall and a set of elevator doors on the opposite side, which Sebastian supposes makes sense based on the position of the elevator shaft on the other floors. Beyond the elevator doors on the same wall are a set of double doors he doesn’t remember seeing on any of the other floors, and in fact, something about them makes him question whether they would even work with the building’s floor plan. He doesn’t stop to dwell on this though, dashing forward to the next corner in hopes of catching sight of Stefano.

As the siren wails louder and louder, the world around him begins to flicker, and he skids to a stop. The walls and floor are blinking in and out of existence, and for a moment he is afraid that he is simply going to fall right through the floor and into the void below.

He closes his eyes for a moment. It’s only an optical illusion. It has to be, because he can feel solid ground under his feet, can feel the wall against the palm of his hand as he reaches out for support. The building is still there all around him, and when he opens his eyes can see that it is, in fact, there, though the visual effect is...bizarre.

The hallway in front of him has been stripped of color, even shades of gray, so that it is starkly black and white. In the dimly lit hall, this means he can barely see anything at all, so he fumbles for his flashlight, pulls it out, and switches it on. In keeping with the new appearance of the building, it emits a beam of pure white light, and he pans it around the hall to confirm that the doors he just took note of are still there, just in monochrome.

The siren stops all at once, and an eerie silence settles around Sebastian. He opens his mouth to shout for Stefano, because he’s sure the other man has to be somewhere around the next corner, but no sound comes out. He tries again, and even though he can feel the vibrations in his chest and throat, everything around him is utterly silent. He stomps his foot on the ground, and again, there are vibrations, but no sound.

It’s disconcerting, to be sure, but in this weird, distorted world, it’s by far not the strangest thing that has happened, and Sebastian has just resolved to push on and find Stefano anyway, when it turns out that apparently Silent Hill is going to do that for him.

Stefano steps into view from around the next corner, walking with a man in a wheelchair. Their movements are jerky, and that plus the black-and-white appearance of the whole environment reminds Sebastian strongly of an old film. Stefano looks in Sebastian’s direction, and for a moment- just a fleeting instant- Sebastian thinks they make eye contact, but then Stefano appears to be talking to the man in the wheelchair.

Whatever Stefano may think of this new person, Sebastian has the strong impression that this man is not their friend. He tries in vain to call out to them, to break Stefano out of whatever spell he is under, but he still can’t make a sound, and so he begins to struggle in their direction. His feet feel quite heavy now, as though he is walking through mud, or maybe as though he is in slow motion and they are proceeding at normal speed. At any rate, he’s not making much progress, and he is still about fifty feet away when the man in the wheelchair turns to look at him- or rather, the man in the wheelchair is suddenly looking at him without ever appearing to move- and he recognizes Andre.

It brings him up short, both because he was not expecting to see that particular face, and because Andre’s face isn’t the way he remembers it at all. There is a dark smile twisting those handsome features, and his eyes seem to look right through Sebastian.

“Behind you,” he says, just as Sebastian’s radio comes to life with a loud burst of static. He catches just a glimpse of Andre and Stefano moving forward through the double doors in that weird, frame-skipping way they have before he takes a deep breath and turns around. 

The monster from the first floor is back, and it is even more terrifying as a looming, monochromatic shape in the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight. It lurches forward with the same jerky movements that Stefano and Andre were using, and Sebastian doesn’t wait to figure out whether it can see him or not, he just turns back around and takes off running.

Or he tries to. Once again, it is as though he has to unstick his foot from the floor with great effort every time he takes a step. His mind is working in overdrive, but his body is responding so slowly that it almost feels like one of those nightmares where he wants to run, needs to run, but is rooted to the spot.

He’s afraid to look over his shoulder to see where the monster is, how fast it is gaining on him, so instead he focuses all of his energy on moving forward, one painfully slow stride at a time, and he does make it to the double doors, through the double doors before wires are zipping through the air on either side of him.

Stefano’s voice shouts his name. His heart leaps into his throat, and he starts to try to reverse direction, but then the explosions go off, and he is thrown forward into thin air. For what feels like seconds, he is completely disoriented, suspended in the air. He has the insane thought that at least his fall also seems to be happening in slow motion before the ground catches up to him.

  
  
  
  


The explosion makes Stefano jump, even though he knows it’s coming. The sound reverberates in his ears, and for a moment, he is in that dark place, at the bottom of a well with running feet and shouting voices all around him, but he can’t stay there this time. He knows he can’t, and he forces himself to step forward, to take back some measure of control. Sebastian is in trouble, and Sebastian needs his help.

His forward motion is halted by a tug on his arm, and he realizes he is still holding Andre’s hand.

“Let me go,” he hisses, eye still fixed on the other side of the balcony, where the creature has fully entered the room and is looking down, presumably at Sebastian on the ground level, though it is too dark for Stefano to see down there.

Andre laughs, and Stefano whips around, angry that Andre is making light of this situation when for all they know Sebastian is dead or dying. Andre nods at their joined hands, and when Stefano follows his gaze, he can see that Andre’s hand is relaxed and open, and that it is his own hand that is holding on with a white-knuckled grip.

“I have to get down there,” Stefano says, though he isn’t sure who he is trying to convince. “I’m done with observing. I won’t watch him die.” He draws in a deep, shaky breath. “I never wanted to watch you die.”

He looks up into Andre’s face again, and this time, he sees all of the warmth and affection and sympathy he remembers. There is a lump forming in his throat.

Andre holds his gaze. His voice is also back to the way Stefano remembers it- soft and kind, but firm. “Then let me go, Stefano.”

Stefano can’t take his eye off Andre's face, even as he can hear things moving around on the floor below them. He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, to say something, anything, but in some ways, he has already said everything he could ever say to Andre, and there is not enough time in the world to say everything he needs to say.

Andre’s hand is cold in his grasp, and Andre has been dead for years, was never really here in the first place, but Stefano can’t force his fingers to unclench, can’t make himself release Andre’s hand. Tears are leaking out of his good eye and burning his bad one, and his chest feels like it’s going to split open right down the center.

“Stefano!”

The shouting voice jolts him out of his own mind. It’s not Andre who is calling him. The voice is coming from behind him and below- clearly Sebastian- and Stefano glances over his shoulder, then back at Andre.

Andre gives a nod of encouragement, though Stefano can see tears shining in his eyes as well. He doesn’t say goodbye. He can’t say goodbye, but he wrenches his hand free, turns, and vaults over the balcony railing before he can change his mind.

The landing goes surprisingly well considering how poorly planned this maneuver was. It’s a little jarring to his knees and ankles, and he staggers for a moment, but he manages to regain his balance. The only light in the room is coming from the open double doors above, and he can hear the creature slamming cabinets and moving furniture on the other side of the room. He freezes, straining his eye and ears to try to determine a more precise location, to figure out which way the monster is facing and whether it has seen him.

A hand closes on his upper arm, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, but in the next moment Sebastian’s voice is whispering in his ear, “This way,” and Stefano lets himself be guided back to the opposite wall and into what seems to be some sort of wardrobe filled with very dusty lab coats.

Stefano is so relieved to see Sebastian, to feel Sebastian warm and alive and panting and shaking beside him- because it is a rather small space after all- that for a second all thoughts of the monster fly right out of his head and his heart is pounding for a much more pleasant reason. He may not be alone in his reaction either, if the fact that Sebastian is still holding his upper arm is any indication.

Then of course another blast echoes from across the room, and he is forcefully confronted with the very real possibility that they are both about to be maimed in an explosion.

“What the hell just happened?” whispers Sebastian.

“I don’t know,” Stefano replies. Then, realizing that’s not quite correct, he adds, “I mean, I might have some idea, but I cannot explain right now.” He pauses, then asks, “Are you alright?”

“More or less,” Sebastian replies in a low voice.

Stefano doesn’t know what ‘more or less alright’ means to Sebastian, but it probably doesn’t mean anything good. He makes a mental note to come back to the subject of Sebastian’s condition later if they manage to survive this encounter intact.

The monster sounds like it is still searching the other side of the room, based on the heavy footsteps, crashing furniture, and periodic explosions. The noises aren’t getting any closer, so it seems that they are hiding successfully, though that could change at any moment.

Sebastian seems to be of a similar mind. “What do we do now?” he hisses.

Stefano is about to ask why on earth Sebastian thinks he would know how to handle this situation when, in a flash of inspiration, he does know exactly what they need to do. Or at least, he knows that he must be the one to take action, and there is only one way he’s been able to make an impression on this monster in all of their past encounters.

“I need my knife,” he whispers to Sebastian.

  
  
  
  


“Absolutely not,” Sebastian snaps, forgetting to keep his voice down, because Stefano has just suggested one of the worst ideas he’s ever heard. He drops his voice to a whisper, leaning in closer to Stefano’s ear. “That thing has explosives and an automatic rifle. Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to bring a knife to a gun fight?”

The both flinch as an explosion goes off on the other side of the room, then freeze, pressed tightly together. Sebastian’s hand is still on Stefano’s arm, and he wants to tell himself that all this physical contact is just because they’re in a small space, just because they’re both utterly terrified. To suggest otherwise would open the door to a whole bunch of complicated feelings that he’s not ready to face right now, but the truth is that he likes the way Stefano’s body feels against his, and he wouldn’t mind feeling this in a situation where their imminent death isn’t quite such a strong possibility.

“Be that as it may,” Stefano whispers back. “I know what I need to do. It has to be me, and I need my knife.”

“What about the camera?” Sebastian asks. He’s not so much making a serious suggestion as he is stalling for time. He still thinks trying to reclaim Stefano’s knife is a terrible idea, but maybe they can come up with a better one.

“If I use the camera we might not be able to see it anymore.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t fully understand how Stefano’s camera works here, and he suspects Stefano doesn’t either. In fact, it seems to work however Silent Hill wants it to work in the moment, so he can’t blame Stefano for not wanting to give the town another chance to fuck with them.

“Do you think it can see us now?” Stefano whispers.

“It definitely saw me,” Sebastian replies. “Otherwise it would be a hell of a coincidence that it blasted me off the balcony like that. I managed to hide before it got down here though. I think that’s when it lost sight of me, but I would assume that once it gets over here it’ll be able to see both of us.”

There is the sound of metal scraping metal. This time it does sound significantly closer to them than before. Stefano shivers, and Sebastian gives his arm a squeeze. “You still want to try for this knife thing?”

There is a short pause. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Sebastian sighs. “You’ve been here longer than I have, so I’ll trust your judgment, but if you go and get yourself killed I’m going to be seriously pissed off.”

That gets a chuckle out of Stefano, though he quickly stifles it behind his hand. “I have no intention of doing that,” he replies. “I would much rather stay around long enough to see a little more of you.”

“I...umm...yeah,” Sebastian stammers, relieved that it is dark enough to hide how furiously he must be blushing now. “Let’s do that. Just maybe after we figure out how to save our asses.”

“Right,” Stefano replies.

“What can I do to help?” Sebastian asks.

“I hate to ask this,” Stefano says, “but it may be easier if you can draw its attention to you, at least initially.”

“You got it,” Sebastian replies. “I can be very distracting.” He pauses as he thinks this through. “I should probably go out first then. Get its attention, and then you can…” He hopes Stefano has some idea of what he’s going to do, because they don’t have much time. The monster’s footsteps are getting closer by the second.

“Yes, I will take care of the rest.”

“Okay,” Sebastian whispers, giving Stefano’s arm one more squeeze before he edges around him so that he can get to the door of the wardrobe.

He peeks out, and now that his eyes have adjusted he can see that they’re in some kind of lecture hall, which means that the floor is littered with obstacles in the form of chairs and desks. This isn’t going to be easy, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let Stefano take this on alone.

He places his hand on his revolver. It didn’t phase the monster last time, but that was also in the realm where the monster couldn’t see him, and he hopes this time the bullets will at least get the creature’s attention if not stagger it. If that doesn’t work, he isn’t too thrilled about his remaining options.

“You ready?” he whispers to Stefano.

“Yes,” Stefano replies.

“Alright, here I go.”

He eases the door open and steps out.


	18. Desaturated

Sebastian reflexively holds his breath as he scans the room, though the monster is making such a racket he really doesn’t need to. His vision is still inexplicably monochromatic, which in these conditions means he can’t distinguish much more than a vague outline of the monster, but that plus what he can hear at least allows him to orient himself somewhat.

By the sound of it, the creature is making its way toward their hiding place, probably conducting its usual search pattern. Sebastian’s gun is in his hand, but he doesn’t raise it yet, because if he wants to draw the monster’s attention away from Stefano, it won’t do any good to fire at it from this position. And that is really all he’s trying to do. He doesn’t hold out any hope that he can kill this thing with bullets after the last encounter, but if he can at least distract it, that will be enough to give Stefano an opening.

His heart is pounding, though it’s more out of fear for Stefano than for himself. It’s bad enough to be engaging this thing from across the room, but getting in close to it is suicide. He should never have agreed to this plan. He would never have agreed to this plan except that Stefano sounded so sure of it, confident in a way Sebastian has never heard him sound before.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on Stefano’s newfound confidence though, because the monster is getting steadily closer, coming from their left. Sebastian circles around to the right, placing what he hopes is enough distance between himself and Stefano’s hiding place that this plan won’t backfire horribly, and takes aim at the large, moving shape on the other side of the room.

It’s going to be a delicate balance to pull this off, because this monster is heavily armed, and once it knows where he is, it will be able to kill him very quickly. On the other hand, he can’t disengage until he’s absolutely sure that it’s targeting him and not Stefano. Thinking about it isn’t helping him develop a plan, and in Sebastian’s experience this sort of thing is better left to instinct, so he takes a deep breath and pulls the trigger.

The muzzle flash is bright white, which shouldn’t surprise him after everything else that’s happened in Silent Hill, and there’s also a splatter of white across the room, which gives him some hope that he’s hit his target. A second later he has no doubt, because the red laser sight catches him right in the eyes, and he only has a moment to wonder why this one burst of color is breaking through the black and white facade before he has to dive for cover behind some furniture.

The rifle rounds are going off behind him as he army crawls along the floor, desperate to keep moving, because he knows there is not much that is going to stop those rounds from reaching him. His safety now depends on staying one step ahead of the monster...and on Stefano.

The gunfire stops for a moment, and he thinks maybe Stefano’s plan is working, that Stefano has found some way to effectively engage this enemy, but then the wires land beside him, and he has to roll out of the way as another explosion goes off. There’s a sharp pain in his side, but after the initial shock it blends in with all of the other aches and pains from the first explosion and the fall, and he struggles to his feet and springs forward again.

He’s disoriented now, with no idea where he is in the room and only a vague idea of where the monster is in relation to him, but he knows he has to keep moving. If he stays still he’s dead for sure.

There’s another burst of gunfire, another sharp pain, and he’s hitting the ground hard. His nerves are on fire, and his legs won’t cooperate, and he knows that any second it’s going to be on him. It’s going to finish him off, and he has no idea where Stefano is or what he’s doing.

“Stefano,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m hit.”

He hopes Stefano can hear him. He’s sure the monster can hear him, and he’s probably leading it right to his location, but he needs Stefano to know that he’s on his own, that this may be his last chance to make a move while the monster is distracted, and there isn’t anything else he can do to defend himself anyway.

Except he realizes that’s not quite true. He does still have his revolver in his hand. Somehow he hasn’t let go of it through all the diving and crawling and dodging. With a grunt of exertion, he rolls onto his back and takes aim. The creature is looming over him, and this time he takes an extra moment to line up his shot, to aim right at its head.

He fires once, twice, before there is a blur of movement between him and the monster. He holds his fire. He can’t risk firing again in case it’s Stefano. He freezes and waits- for salvation or death, he doesn’t know.

  
  
  
  


When Sebastian steps out of the wardrobe, Stefano experiences just a moment of doubt. After all, this is his idea, and he is effectively asking Sebastian to be cannon fodder for him while he attempts a plan that he may not be able to pull off and that, even if he does, may not have the desired effect.

But Sebastian believes in him, and maybe- just maybe- Andre believed in him too, and even if he can’t quite believe in himself right now, that will have to be enough. He cannot contemplate failure, because he cannot fail in this. Part of him wants to explore the interaction he just had with the vision of Andre, but it was just that- a vision- and there is no time to determine what their conversation meant or didn’t mean. His life is on the line right here and now, and so is Sebastian’s, and he is the only one who can save them.

He waits for his chance, and just a few seconds after Sebastian leaves their hiding place, he hears a single round go off, one he’s come to recognize as Sebastian’s revolver. The monster’s reaction is immediate, and the barrage of rifle fire makes Stefano flinch. He’s seen how those rifle rounds can tear through a man, and he hopes Sebastian has the good sense to get the hell out of the way in time.

He takes a deep breath and eases out of the wardrobe, because Sebastian’s hard work is all going to be for nothing if he gets the monster’s attention back on him too early. He can see it stalking across the room now, red laser sight scanning the floor for Sebastian as it continues its barrage of gunfire.

Stefano immediately realizes the problem with this plan. The weapon he needs is sticking out of the front of the monster’s body, and he’s going to have a devilishly hard time positioning himself in front of it without being torn apart by gunfire or targeted by its explosives.

Just as this thought crosses his mind, the monster pauses in its rapid-fire attack, and Stefano quickly tries to close the distance. He isn’t sure if it’s reloading or listening for Sebastian, but he fully intends to take advantage of the momentary break in gunfire to get a hold of the knife or at least get into a better position.

He is only a few feet away when the explosion goes off, and it staggers him, because he has seen and heard and felt all of this before- the faraway, shouting voices and the flying sand and shrapnel. The pain in his head and in his body settles into him like an old friend, and the world around him freezes into the one image he knows better than any other.

He has studied the last picture he ever took of Andre from every possible angle- as a memorial to his friend and lover, as a testament to the horrors of war, in hopes of drawing some comfort about the nature of Andre’s death or some reassurance about what his own will be like. He has tried to find some beauty, something redeeming in that photo, and there is beauty there in the formal, artistic sense of course, but at the end of the day, what that photograph represents for him is loss.

He lost more than Andre in the desert that day. He lost part of himself, part of his body, part of his soul. Some of those things, he can never get back, and he is unsure if he can ever be whole again, but what he does know is that he has experienced enough loss for one lifetime. That picture may be part of his past, but it doesn’t have to be part of his future. Almost as he has that thought, the image before him fades away, and he is again in the darkened room with the monster.

He desperately wants to know if Sebastian is alright, if he survived the explosion, but he is afraid to call for him or use the radio lest he alert the monster to Sebastian’s location or his. The next volley of gunfire makes him jump, and he reorients himself to the monster’s new position. It is still firing away from him, still scanning with its laser sight, which gives him some hope that Sebastian is still alive.

In the next pause, he gets his answer. He hears Sebastian’s words coming from out of the darkness, rather than over the radio. His voice is tight, strained, but it’s definitely Sebastian.

“Stefano. I’m hit.”

Those words spur Stefano to action, because if Sebastian is already injured badly enough to be broadcasting his location, his chances of survival just plummeted. Whatever the monster might be able to do to him, Stefano needs to get in between it and Sebastian, and he needs to do it now.

He is in motion, dashing to the source of the voice, to the hulking figure that is looming over Sebastian, who is sprawled on the floor. There are two more shots fired- by Sebastian this time, he dimly realizes- two more muzzle flashes in the dark, and they give him that one more second of distraction he needs to throw himself between the monster and Sebastian and grab hold of the knife handle.

It’s about at his eye level, but he grasps it with both hands, makes a tremendous effort, and wrenches it free. The monster emits an unearthly wail, like the groaning of some ancient metal structure collapsing mixed with the screams of dying men. It drops to its knees.

Stefano draws the knife back again, then plunges forward, burying it in the monster’s face.

  
  
  
  


Sebastian braces himself for the explosion, for more gunfire, but it doesn’t come. Instead he catches a flash of metal, and then everything is suddenly, blindingly white.

It takes his eyes a second to adjust, but when they do he can see that the negative image has flipped again. The room around him is almost white, but he can still see shapes highlighted in shades of black and gray. He wonders, briefly, if this is an actual effect that is taking place in the environment or if he’s going into shock. His head is spinning, and he feels too warm, so maybe he’s just about to pass out from blood loss. Or maybe he’s already dead. Nothing is off the table at this point.

He can make out the monster looming over him and Stefano standing between them with a large, intricately crafted knife in his hand. He can see the hole in the monster’s chest where the knife used to be, and even as he watches, the gore starts to pour out of it- thick and fast and shockingly red against the otherwise black and white background. He squints against the spatter that is raining down on his face, on the floor all around, and most assuredly on Stefano, though the other man doesn’t seem to notice.

The monster unleashes a horrible, howling cry. It’s unlike anything Sebastian has ever heard before, and he certainly has no desire to hear anything like it ever again. It sends a shudder through his body, and just for a moment he wonders if that means he’s still alive. The creature drops to its knees, and Sebastian feels a surge of hope, that maybe it’s dying, that maybe Stefano can actually beat this thing and get out of here even if it’s too late for Sebastian himself.

The monster throws its head back, and Sebastian peers up into its face, looking for some clue, some indicator of its condition. What he finds is far more interesting. He can see the monster’s face properly for the first time, and what he sees is one massive eye. It’s not like any eye he has ever seen before either, and not just because of the size. Its outline is jagged, irregular, and it doesn’t seem to quite fit the socket around it, which is a deep, wet hole in the creature’s face.

The eye itself is bloodshot, with an iris and pupil that look more like concentric rings of metal than anything organic. Sebastian supposes that might explain the red laser sight the creature was using to focus its rifle fire before. Even now, the metal portion of the eye is jerking back and forth as the rings spin and dilate erratically.

Sebastian draws in his breath to urge Stefano on, but Stefano clearly needs no urging. He springs into action, surging forward and driving the knife deep into the monster’s eye.

The effect is immediate, and not just on the monster itself. The room around them begins to flicker, and from Sebastian’s perspective it looks like all of them are blinking into and out of existence along with the environment. It brings a fresh wave of heat and nausea, and he has to close his eyes for a moment to steady himself.

When he opens them, he can see that Stefano is not relenting. He yanks the knife out and then stabs it back in, over and over again, the monster uttering a deep, guttural groan with each new thrust of the knife. Its vile, decaying hands claw at Stefano’s arms as he forces the knife in deeper, but Stefano is undeterred.

Stefano thrusts the knife in five times, six, maybe even more because Sebastian can barely keep track of what’s going on with the flashing lights and the rushing of air in his ears. He struggles to stay conscious, for all the good that will do, because he doesn’t want to leave Stefano alone here, doesn’t want to tap out until he is sure Stefano will be safe.

The creature’s movements are becoming slower, weaker, less coordinated, and finally its arms drop to hang limply by its sides. When Stefano pulls the knife out the next time, he pauses, watches as the monster sways, then collapses onto the floor on its side. Stefano simply stands for a moment, and as he does so the flickering environment stabilizes, settles into existence around them. The distorted lighting is gone too, and now they are just in an ordinary, dimly-lit room.

This isn’t much consolation to Sebastian though, because his vision is already going black around the edges, and this time he is sure it’s because of his injury. The room is much too warm now, and the rushing sound in his ears is becoming overwhelming. He tries to stay engaged, to pick something to focus on.

In the narrow tunnel of his vision, he can see Stefano wipe off his knife and tuck it away somewhere in his jacket. Stefano turns around, and then his face is taking up Sebastian’s entire field of vision as his voice blends in with the noise that fills Sebastian’s head.

“Sebastian? Are you alright?”

He’s definitely not alright, but he can’t organize his mouth or his brain enough to say anything. The buzzing in his head is deafening, and within seconds, he can no longer see anything at all. He feels something touch the side of his face and leans into it, desperate to keep any contact with the outside world.

“Stay with me, Sebastian.”

He does want to stay with Stefano, but the pull of the darkness is strong, and within moments he is swallowed up by it.

  
  
  
  


The feeling of power that surges through Stefano as the creature crumples to the ground is intoxicating. It takes with it his fears and doubts, his uncertainties about his ability to handle this kind of situation. There can be no doubt anymore that he will prevail, because he has prevailed.

He soaks up the feeling for a few seconds, savoring the smell of blood, the weight of the knife in his hand, the strength he felt as he plunged that knife into the monster’s face, before he remembers why he was spurred to action in the first place, and his euphoria turns to fear. He hurries to put his knife away and turns back to Sebastian, kneeling down beside him.

To say that Sebastian looks a little the worse for wear would be an understatement. For one thing, he is squinting at Stefano in a way that suggests he may not have a good grasp on his surroundings at the moment. For another, there is blood all over him, and it can’t all be from the monster.

“Sebastian? Are you alright?”

He knows it’s a bit of a ridiculous question under the circumstances. Obviously Sebastian is not ‘alright’ by Stefano’s standards, but he half-expects Sebastian to answer in the affirmative anyway, just because Sebastian is always so quick to declare that nothing is wrong with him. Even though it has frustrated Stefano in the past, it would be a relief to get that kind of response now.

Sebastian swallows and whets his lips and seems to be trying to form some words, but he can’t produce any sound, and his silence is even more frightening to Stefano than any admission of injury would be.

Stefano reaches out to touch Sebastian’s face, hoping to provoke some kind of reaction, to draw Sebastian back to some level of awareness, but Sebastian only leans his head heavily into Stefano’s hand. His eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, as though he is losing consciousness...or dying.

Stefano has studied that picture of Andre so many times that he should be able to tell the difference, but instead all logical thoughts have gone out of his head. There is a cold fist clenching inside his chest, and he can’t remember anything he should know about what to do in this situation. He only knows that he doesn’t want Sebastian to leave, that he can’t lose someone else this way.

“Stay with me, Sebastian,” he says, stroking his cheek. “I am going to help you.”

It’s a bold promise, because he has no idea what to do next, but he has to do something. He has just turned his attention to the first aid kit secured to Sebastian’s belt when the room around them begins to shake.

“What on earth?” Stefano says aloud, even though he’s fairly certain Sebastian can’t hear him anymore.

Not only is the floor shaking, but dust and debris and pieces of ceiling tile are starting to fall from above. He’s seen this before, but only in the war zone, only during a bombing. This building is coming down around them, and he doesn’t know how or why, doesn’t have time to figure out how or why. He just needs to get himself and Sebastian out of there before it’s too late.

The shaking intensifies, and Stefano actually staggers trying to find his footing as he stands up to look for an exit. He spots one twenty or thirty feet away. He thinks it’s on the opposite side of the room from where he entered, but he can’t be sure. He’s become quite turned around in the course of the last few minutes, and he cannot tell whether this door leads to safety or to even greater danger, but they certainly can’t stay here any longer.

He leans down, taking hold of the now thoroughly unconscious Sebastian and propping him up enough that he can wrap his arms around Sebastian’s chest just underneath his arms. Sebastian grunts in protest, but Stefano presses on and manages to push himself back up into a half-crouch. Sebastian is not making it easy on him, as he is entirely dead weight and quite a bit of it at that, but there is no time to figure out a more comfortable arrangement.

Chunks of debris are falling all around them as Stefano moves backward, half dragging and half carrying Sebastian to the door. He ducks his head to shield his eye, coughs to clear his lungs, but the air is thick with dust, and he can hardly see where he is going. Fortunately the door swings open when he pushes his back against it, and they are at least out of that room, though the next one isn’t much better.

They are in a long hallway, or maybe it only looks that way because his vision is so limited by the dust- or is it fog now? He thinks they are moving away from the collapsing part of the building but he can’t be sure. Everything around them is still shaking violently, and this is all much too familiar, but now is the time for action, not reflection.

They have to be getting close to outside now, and no sooner has Stefano had that thought than there is another door at his back. He has no way of knowing where it leads, but he tightens his grip on Sebastian and presses on.


	19. Alone and Together

_ “Sebastian?” _

_ The voice is familiar, but not quite right somehow. It’s affectionate, relaxed, but with an undertone of tension. _

_ “Sebastian, are you going to sleep all day?” _

_ There is a rustling as the curtains are pulled back, and then the sunlight punches him right in the eyes. _

_ “Jesus Christ,” he mutters as he rolls over, shielding his eyes with his arm. He’s awake now though- no question about that. _

_ “What time is it?” he asks as he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. The sunlight is more bearable now that he’s facing away from it, but the prospect of actually opening his eyes is much too painful. _

_ “9:30,” Myra replies, and Sebastian feels the mattress behind him sink down as she sits and places a hand on his back. “What time did you get in last night?” _

_ “Four AM,” Sebastian groans. He doesn’t have to do any math to know that’s not enough sleep, but he’s going to have to make due. He and Joseph got assigned a shooting to investigate late last night, and by the time they had wrapped that up they still had two hours of paperwork ahead of them, and of course he wasn’t about to leave Joseph to do it all by himself. _

_ “Well, Lily’s already had a bowl of cereal and watched her morning cartoon, and she’s determined to go for a bike ride,” Myra says. “I can buy you maybe an hour if I get her to help me in the garden…” _

_ “That’s okay,” Sebastian says. “I’m up. Just need my coffee.” _

_ “It’s right here,” Myra replies. _

_ “Thanks,” Sebastian murmurs. “You’re the best.” _

_ He opens his eyes and turns over, fully expecting to see Myra sitting there in the morning sunlight, as she so often was when she would wake him up on those rare weekend days when both of them were off-duty. What he sees is very different. _

_ It’s his bedroom. There’s no denying that, but the shades are drawn, and the room is dark, and the space next to him in the bed is empty. His heart aches. _

_ For a few seconds, he believed it would all be okay, that he and Lily and Myra would go for a bike ride and everything would be the way it was supposed to be. The pain wells up inside him, starting in his chest and working its way up his throat until his eyes are burning, and he realizes that tears are streaming down his face. He clenches his eyes shut, trying to force the tears to stop. Crying won’t bring them back. _

“Sebastian?”

It’s not Myra’s voice this time. It’s another voice he knows, but he’s sunk too far into his grief to respond.

“Sebastian.”

The voice is more insistent this time, and something- or someone- is touching his face. He opens his eyes again, and this time, it’s Stefano he sees, and it’s Stefano’s hand that is wiping away the tears, which to his horror are all too real.

He doesn’t want to be awake if this is what being awake is like. He wants to retreat back into himself and into that blissfully unaware dream. He catches Stefano’s hand and brings it in close to his face, pressing it over his eyes.

He doesn’t know exactly why he does it. Clearly Stefano already knows he’s been crying, so he’s not saving face by hiding now, but there is something soothing about the darkness. Stefano’s hand is cool against his face the same way Myra’s used to be, and that makes him sob even harder.

“Sebastian,” Stefano murmurs, this time clearly in sympathy, and his other hand comes to rest on Sebastian’s back, rubbing circles even as Sebastian’s body is racked with more sobs.

“It’s-” Stefano begins to say before he stops abruptly. Sebastian fully expected him to say ‘It’s going to be alright,’ which he’s heard a thousand times before and which couldn’t be farther from the truth. “It’s...going to get better,” Stefano says finally. Sebastian can only hope that maybe he’s right.

He doesn’t have much time to consider that though, because the next thing he feels is the press of Stefano’s lips to his forehead, which is surprising enough to drive all other thoughts from his mind. It’s not the kind of gesture he would accept from just anyone, but he and Stefano have been through a lot together, and in this context it feels natural and comforting but still quite intimate. It’s over in a moment, and Sebastian is left wondering if he wanted it to go on longer.

The tide of grief is slowly subsiding. Sebastian’s breaths are still long and shaky, but he is at least sure that he can breathe now, that his chest won’t be crushed under the weight of his sorrow. He swallows hard and lets his hands fall away from his face. Stefano’s hand comes away as well, and Stefano’s face swims back into focus.

They simply look at each other for several seconds before Stefano says, “I am sorry.”

Sebastian smiles, because it’s sort of crazy that Stefano is apologizing to him when Stefano might be the first good thing that’s happened in his life for quite some time. “Pretty sure you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says.

“Perhaps not,” Stefano replies, “but I am still sorry you are hurting.”

Sebastian knows exactly what Stefano is referring to, but his body is starting to not-so-subtly remind him that he’s hurting in a lot more ways than just emotionally. He looks down at himself to see what the damage is, but he doesn’t get very far into that process.

He’s lying on his side on a cot in what looks like some kind of small storage room. It dawns on him that he has no idea where he is or how he got here, or why he has a sneaking suspicion that underneath this sheet, he’s naked. He lifts up the edge of the sheet to check. Yes, definitely naked. Naked and alone with Stefano who is sitting on the edge of the cot with his elbows resting on his knees looking entirely too calm about everything.

Sebastian’s face flushes hot as he processes the implications of this new turn of events, and he tries to cover his surprise with a little cough, which sets off a burst of pain in his chest that radiates up and down his torso. He freezes, hoping it will subside if he can just hold perfectly still. For the most part it does, though he’s now intensely aware of the delicate condition of his body.

“Where are we?” he asks when he’s able to speak again without wincing. Then, the memories of recent events come back all at once in a great rush, and he adds, “Did you kill the monster?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “I doubt we will be seeing that particular monster again.” There is a hint of a smile on his face, a look of satisfaction, and it reminds Sebastian of the way he looked when he was delivering the fatal blows to the creature.

“You were pretty impressive with that knife,” he offers.

“Why thank you,” Stefano says. “I cannot say that I have had formal training, but I apparently have quite a few years of pent-up hostility to work out.”

Sebastian laughs without thinking, then cringes at the pain in his ribs.

“Easy,” Stefano says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Sebastian is more aware than ever that Stefano’s hand is on his bare skin, but at least it’s a pleasant distraction from the pain.

“What happened?” Sebastian asks once he has his breath again. “I remember trying to get that thing’s attention, and...did I get shot?”

“You did,” Stefano replies, gesturing to Sebastian’s left leg, which, now that he takes a moment to consider it, is also throbbing. “But you were rather lucky all things considered. It appears to be a clean entry and exit through the muscle. No blood vessel or bone involved. I am sure it will be quite unpleasant, but not debilitating.”

‘Unpleasant’ isn’t quite the word Sebastian would use to describe being shot, and he has, in fact, been shot a few times before, but it’s good to know that in Stefano’s field medic assessment, they aren’t dealing with any of the more serious potential consequences of a gunshot. He takes another peek under the sheets to see what his leg looks like, but only catches a glimpse of a bandage before he remembers he is still naked and quickly drops the sheet to cover himself.

Apparently this time he’s not successful in hiding his blush from Stefano, who smiles indulgently. “I had to remove your clothes to assess your injuries,” he says. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Somehow the idea that Stefano has seen him completely naked doesn’t seem like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but honestly it’s probably the least of his worries at the moment.

“Uh...thanks, I think,” he stammers. “What...umm...was your assessment?” He’s sure he’s still blushing furiously, but he can’t help it. Generally speaking, nudity doesn’t bother him too much, but for some reason the fact that this is Stefano is putting everything in a very different light.

“Aside from the gunshot wound, mostly bumps and bruises,” Stefano answers, his tone businesslike. “Definitely some very bruised ribs- possibly cracked- and a number of other superficial wounds. Also that tattoo on your ankle is an eyesore.”

“Hey!” Sebastian protests, remembering not to expand his lungs too much this time. “That’s from my fraternity.”

“I am sure it is,” Stefano says, with a gleam in his eye. He reaches down by Sebastian’s feet and flips the sheet over so that the ankle in question is exposed. “But look at that,” he says. “Surely you cannot tell me that this was the product of an intelligent, reasoned decision.”

The tattoo itself isn’t anything remarkable. In fact, the Greek letters and skull and crossbones are pretty generic, but the wandering lines and uneven application of ink give the impression that it was performed mid-party by one of his fraternity brothers who happened to own a tattoo machine and may have been highly intoxicated...which is exactly what happened.

“Of course not,” Sebastian says, “but how many intelligent, reasoned decisions did you make in college?”

“Quite a few,” Stefano replies. “Though I did have the advantage of seeking higher education after I had obtained a bit more life experience than most.”

“Was this after the army?”

“Yes,” Stefano says. “I thought perhaps I might find some sense of purpose among my peers.”

“And?” Sebastian prompts.

“I was...unimpressed. As it turns out, one can teach formal elements of artistry, but not the essence of art itself. Inspiration cannot be learned in the classroom, and the people I met at university were sorely lacking in inspiration themselves.”

Stefano has a far away look in his eye, and Sebastian is unsure how to respond, so he offers, “Well, it still sounds like you learned more in college than I did. Or at least more than I can remember learning.”

Stefano frowns. “Would it be safe to say that you overindulged a bit?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian concedes, “but it was college. I didn’t get serious about my career- or anything really- until later, at the police academy.” He almost says ‘until I met Myra’, which would also be true. He never thought about the future until he had someone to plan a future with.

“And what about now?”

Sebastian casts a critical eye over Stefano, because Stefano is starting to sound a lot like Joseph, and Sebastian really isn’t in the mood to debate the wisdom of his drinking habits. He sees no judgment in Stefano’s face though, only mild curiosity. And of course he’s probably shared much worse things with Stefano by this point.

“I probably drink more than I should since Myra left,” he says. “Takes the edge off, I guess.” He tries to shrug, but thinks better of it. His aching ribs have finally settled down, and he has no desire to set them off again. “Speaking of taking the edge off,” he continues, “do we have any pain meds in our first aid kit?”

“We do,” Stefano replies, “though I would not recommend anything too heavy. You will undoubtedly need your wits about you.”

“That’s for sure,” Sebastian agrees. Even though the town seems to be allowing them a little break now, there’s no telling how long it will last or what they’ll face next.

“Before I give you anything,” Stefano says, “let me go over you one more time. I was unable to tell if you have any other painful areas as you were unconscious when I was examining you before.”

“Is that...uh...really necessary?” Sebastian asks, feeling a little warm in the face again and acutely aware of his state of undress.

“Yes, of course,” Stefano says smoothly, already easing him down onto his back and folding the sheet back to just below his hips. “No need to worry. I am not going to hurt you.”

That is not at all what Sebastian is worried about, though true to his word, Stefano’s hands are very gentle as he feels his way along each of Sebastian’s arms. The right one, Sebastian notes, has a fresh bandage over the wound from earlier.

“I would assume your ribs are quite sore,” Stefano says, mercifully not putting his hands on them but gesturing to the numerous dark red bruises already visible there.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, finding it suddenly rather difficult to breathe. Surely that’s due to the chest injury though and not to the way Stefano’s eye is moving up and down his body.

“Anywhere that is particularly bad?”

Sebastian swallows hard as he tries to take account of his own body, which is surprisingly difficult when he’s so focused on Stefano. “Right side is a little worse than the left,” he finally manages to say, “but not that different.”

Stefano nods. “Let me know if there are any other tender places.”

Sebastian’s mouth is very dry as Stefano’s hands move lower, exploring his abdomen carefully until they reach the top of the sheet, which Stefano then adjusts to uncover one of Sebastian’s legs. As Stefano works his way down to Sebastian’s foot and then back up, Sebastian takes a moment to try to get control of himself, because there is absolutely no reason this should be affecting him the way it is. Stefano is being perfectly professional about everything, but god damn it, it’s just been so long since anyone has touched him at all, much less touched him gently, that this feels like a really big deal.

If Stefano notices Sebastian’s persistent silence, he doesn’t comment on it, except to check in with him a few more times to make sure Sebastian doesn’t have any pain anywhere unexpected. Fortunately, aside from the older arm injury, his throbbing leg and the very delicate situation with his ribs, there doesn’t seem to be any other major damage.

He wonders, as Stefano is replacing the sheet over him, then helping him sit up and handing him a few pills and a glass of water, whether this is part of the town’s plan, whether it would allow him to become so injured that he couldn’t continue to explore, whether it would actually kill him or Stefano. He doesn’t want to find out.

“Thank you,” he says as he hands the glass back to Stefano and eases himself back down onto the cot. It’s not particularly comfortable, but it beats trying to sit up right now. “For everything, I mean.” He fixes Stefano with a serious look, because as much as he risked himself back there with the monster, Stefano risked even more. “For not leaving me.”

“Of course I would not leave you,” Stefano says. “We are in this together now, after all.”

The words are barely out of Stefano’s mouth when they hit him like a punch in the gut. He starts to double over, but his chest screams in protest at the movement, and he ends up sort of half curled up on his side. A low groan escapes him as he tries to figure out just what it is that he’s reacting to, but Stefano is already there.

“My apologies,” Stefano murmurs as one of his hands comes to rest on Sebastian’s shoulder. It can’t take his pain away of course, but it does feel nice. “I did not intend to cause you pain. Those words were on my mind because of the pictures.”

Sebastian can’t speak. It still feels like the wind has been knocked out of him, like he can’t draw his breath back in, but Stefano fills in the silence.

“I saw Joseph,” he says simply.

It doesn’t make the pain stop, but it gives it an explanation, a purpose, and that makes it somehow more bearable. His eyes are burning again, and it is strange to him because he’s sure he hasn’t cried in months, hasn’t been able to cry in months, and yet this is the second time it’s happened today.

Stefano rubs his upper arm. “Clearly you had quite a partnership.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth, because even through the tears, he can appreciate the partnership he had with Joseph. “What did you see?” he asks when his throat has loosened up enough that he can speak.

“I think perhaps you were in STEM,” Stefano says. “You were fighting monsters in the ruins of a castle.”

Sebastian is smiling fully now, because that’s actually a good memory. Joseph was in his element there. “Yes,” he says. “That was STEM. Joseph definitely had my back there...I’m just not so sure I had his when the time came.”

He swallows down the lump that is threatening to come back into his throat, pushes those other memories out of his mind. They won’t serve any purpose now but to hurt him.

“I don’t know the full story of course,” Stefano says, “but I can tell you were very close.”

Sebastian nods wordlessly. ‘Close’ doesn’t really describe it, but he can’t think of a way to explain what he and Joseph had, and it still hurts to think about it, but mixed in with the pain is curiosity, because now he is remembering what happened in the hall of pictures, how he was transported into Stefano’s memories. He’s sure Stefano has seen other moments from his past as well.

“What else did you see?” he asks.

“I saw you and Myra,” Stefano replies, still stroking his arm. “You were arguing about what happened to Lily.”

Sebastian isn’t sure what to say to that, and after a moment, Stefano asks, “Did she...I mean, was she…?”

“She was grieving,” Sebastian says quickly, because it’s hard to describe exactly what Myra was like after Lily died, but he’s sure it was some expression of grief. “We were both grieving, just in very different ways.” He heaves a sigh. “I thought...I wish we had been able to deal with it together, but...”

He shakes his head. He remembers the time before Myra left better than he would like to, remembers living in the same house with her, sleeping in the same bed with her, but feeling profoundly alone. And he remembers the pain, the ache inside him every single day, remembers how badly he wanted her to acknowledge that he was hurting, that they were both hurting.

He is hurting now, but at least he doesn’t feel quite so alone. The tears are still leaking slowly out of his eyes as Stefano leans down to wrap an arm around him in kind of an awkward hug, careful not to put pressure on his ribs.

For a moment he feels a little foolish, wonders if he should try to explain himself, but then he remembers what he saw in Stefano’s memories and realizes he doesn’t need to. Stefano has also lost someone close to him, and that brings back the memory of what Stefano said to him earlier.

“Is it really going to get better?” Sebastian asks, face buried in Stefano’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Stefano murmurs, rubbing his back. “If you will let it.”


	20. Underexposed

“Is it really going to get better?” Sebastian’s voice is muffled, but he makes no attempt to pull away from Stefano.

“Yes,” Stefano murmurs, rubbing his back. “If you will let it.”

Stefano can’t help but observe that Sebastian is clinging on to him with surprising strength for a man who was so recently unconscious. Stefano himself is careful in how he holds Sebastian. He knows how painful broken, or even bruised ribs can be from his own experience, but Sebastian seems oblivious to pain at the moment.

Stefano is also careful because, despite how tightly Sebastian is holding him, Sebastian seems somehow fragile. He’s literally shaking in Stefano’s arms. His sobs have turned into sniffles, but his face is still pressed against Stefano’s shoulder, and if Sebastian isn’t ready to let go, then Stefano is quite content to keep on holding him.

He hopes he is telling Sebastian the truth, but he isn’t entirely sure himself. He remembers the weeks and months after Andre’s death, and he knows that how he felt then is fundamentally different from how he feels now, but he wouldn’t exactly say things got better.

The pain isn’t so sharp anymore- a dull ache, rather than a gaping wound. The sorrow is still there, but it is in the background- a filter that colors his life but doesn’t control it. He still thinks about Andre every day, but now those memories are more varied- some fond and others bittersweet- and he doesn’t have to fight so hard to force them out of his head, because they no longer cripple him the way they used to. So if things aren’t getting better, they are at least getting...less.

Or at least they were receding before he came to this town, before he was summoned to Silent Hill by Andre’s letter. He thinks back to what Andre said the first time he saw him in the hospital.

_ “Actually, I don’t think you’re finished with me.” _

He is not even sure what it would mean to be finished with someone he once loved. He suspects he never will be truly finished with Andre, but after their last encounter he does feel that something is different...

Sebastian’s breathing is evening out, and it draws Stefano’s attention back to the man in his arms, not the man who died so many years ago. Even under these circumstances, he can’t deny it feels good to hold someone again. Some small, insubordinate part of his brain tells him that of course it does, that he is desperately lonely, that he has lived long enough in this damaged shell of a body to know he will never be wanted or desired, that he would throw himself at the first man who will have him.

Deep down though, he knows there is something special about Sebastian. Sebastian would have caught his attention even before the war, even before the grenade. He knows Sebastian is only with him now out of necessity, knows they are both doing what they must do to survive Silent Hill, but he can still hope, and that hope burns bright in another dark corner of his mind.

Sebastian sighs deeply and loosens his hold. Stefano reluctantly sits back and lets Sebastian ease himself back down onto the cot. Stefano still wishes he could have found a softer resting place for Sebastian, but he supposes that in this situation he was fortunate to find anywhere for Sebastian to lie down at all.

He still isn’t sure how they made it out of the collapsing hospital. The air was thick with dust and debris, and all of his senses were impaired, but he was able to half carry and half drag Sebastian outside into an alleyway. The decision to take shelter in the small storage room they are in now wasn’t an easy one. After being trapped in the hospital for so long, Stefano would have preferred to stay outside, but they needed shelter and protection, both from the falling debris and from whatever else might be out there.

The room is lined with shelves, most of which hold dusty cardboard boxes, but there is also a workbench with an old gas lantern. The soft, warm light wasn’t much help when he was trying to treat Sebastian’s wounds, but it is quite relaxing now that the moment of urgency has passed.

“Thank you,” Sebastian says, voice thick with emotion. “I guess I needed that.”

His eyes are red from crying, and his face is puffy, and it’s really not a good look for him, but it brings a little smile to Stefano’s face anyway, because Sebastian is such an open book. It’s not to say that Sebastian is not complicated- indeed, he is a man dealing with complex emotions in multiple relationships in his life- but that Sebastian is willing to share both his thoughts and his raw emotions with Stefano in a way most would not.

Stefano has questions for him- many questions in fact- but Sebastian is already asking a question of his own, “What else did you see in the pictures?”

Stefano doesn’t particularly want to talk about the last picture, because he is sure it is a terrible memory, but Sebastian has been open with him so far, and Stefano at least owes him the same courtesy. He takes a deep breath.

“It was the fire,” he begins. “You were inside the house trying to get to Lily, and then…” His voice trails off as he remembers the last part of that memory, remembers Sebastian finding Lily in her room and Lily accusing him. Surely that can’t be what actually happened though…

Sebastian’s eyes go wide for a moment, and a shiver runs through him. “That’s not right,” he says. “I mean, that wasn’t a memory,” he corrects himself. “That’s, uh, kind of a recurring dream I have.”

“You were not in the house when it burned?”

“No,” Sebastian replies. “I was too late. We were both too late.” He pauses before continuing, “I never made it inside, but I still have that dream all the time.” He looks down for a moment, toying with the edge of the sheet before looking up to meet Stefano’s eye again. “Do you ever dream about Andre?”

There is something about hearing the name spoken aloud that freezes him in place, forces the air from his lungs, and makes him suddenly and acutely aware of the beating of his own heart. At first, he thinks it’s just a regular stress reaction, but then he realizes that even if Sebastian somehow saw Andre at some point while they were in the hospital, Sebastian has no reason to know Andre’s name.

He nods slowly, because he does dream about Andre of course, but his heart is still pounding as he asks, “How do you know his name, Sebastian? What did you see?”

“I saw...maybe more than I should have,” Sebastian mutters, a scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks as he looks down again to avoid Stefano’s gaze. He swallows, then continues without looking up, “I saw you guys in the barracks.”

“Oh my,” Stefano says, raising a hand to his mouth, because he genuinely did not anticipate this. He was sure Sebastian would have seen Andre’s death, because that is one of his most formative memories, but he had no idea Sebastian would have seen him...doing that.

He can feel his own cheeks flushing hot, because if Sebastian didn’t know about his...proclivities before, he surely does now, and Stefano’s first response is to move away so he won’t be within range if Sebastian reacts badly to this revelation. He catches himself though, because clearly Sebastian has been aware of this for at least a little while, and he isn’t showing any signs of having a violent or angry reaction. Actually he isn’t showing signs of having any reaction besides embarrassment, as he is still studiously avoiding Stefano’s eye.

“I am sorry you had to see that,” Stefano says. It doesn’t quite capture how he feels, but he needs to say something to fill the silence, and it’s the only thing he can think of.

“Oh,” Sebastian says, glancing up, “that’s not what I meant. It, uh, seemed like a nice memory. I just felt like I was intruding or something.”

Stefano opens his mouth but closes it again without speaking. It does feel a little like an intrusion into a very private part of his life, but he can’t blame Sebastian for that. If anything, it is the town that forced this upon them. And he saw some very private moments of Sebastian’s as well. He turns away, looking down at the floor in an attempt to organize his thoughts.

“Hey,” Sebastian says softly. His hand lands on Stefano’s knee, and Stefano nearly jumps out of his skin. “I don’t know why I was seeing that particular memory, but it was nice to see that you had someone like that…”

Stefano nods, still not looking at Sebastian. Even though Sebastian’s words are kind and his voice is soft, Stefano is bracing himself, physically and mentally, for what comes next. Sebastian’s hand feels like it’s going to burn right through his trousers, like an electrical circuit that connects the two of them, but Sebastian isn’t moving his hand away, and Stefano has no idea what that means.

Sebastian is silent for several seconds, but that silence says as much as his words. The unspoken observation that Andre is no longer with him hangs heavy in the air between them.

“Look,” Sebastian says, “I would never say that I know exactly what you’re going through or how you’re feeling, but you said before that everyone who comes to this town has lost someone.”

Stefano nods again.

“I’m not sure that’s exactly right,” Sebastian says. Stefano turns to look at him. He is quite confident in his assessment of their situation, but he is interested to hear Sebastian’s theory.

“I mean, it’s not wrong,” Sebastian continues, “but I just…” he shakes his head. “I think everybody has lost someone at some point, and a lot of them seem to be doing okay.” He sighs deeply.

“And you are wondering why it is different for us,” Stefano says, catching on to where Sebastian is going with this.

“Yes,” Sebastian says emphatically, looking up at Stefano with an expression that is equal parts frustration and relief. “People never say this, but I know they’re wondering why I can’t just get over it.”

Stefano reflects on the memories he saw. “Myra did not seem to believe that you should ‘get over it’, as you say.”

“No.” Sebastian smiles almost fondly. “No, she didn’t. That’s one of the only things that kept us together for a while, but even then, she wasn’t happy. It’s like I wasn’t grieving the way she wanted me to grieve.”

Stefano cautiously places a hand on top of Sebastian’s, and now Sebastian’s smile is broad and warm and inviting. “And somehow we ended up talking about me again,” Sebastian says. “I thought I was supposed to be comforting you.”

“You are,” Stefano says simply, because Sebastian’s presence and Sebastian’s acceptance are comforting to him in ways he can’t explain in words. “And there is no wrong way to grieve.”

Sebastian nods. “I know,” he says, “or at least, I know that on some level, but I loved her, and in the end it just felt like I wasn’t enough for her… or maybe without Lily we weren’t enough for each other.” He sighs again. “I don’t know...it just...hurts.”

Stefano also would never purport to know exactly how someone feels, but Sebastian’s words and the sense of resignation in his voice resonate with him. It does hurt. It hurts every single day, and even though it doesn’t hurt the same way it used to, he is afraid it will never stop hurting.

He is pulled out of his own thoughts when Sebastian’s hand turns over underneath his, so that they are palm to palm, hands still resting on Stefano’s leg with their fingers interlaced.

“Are we going to talk about this?” Sebastian asks, nodding at their joined hands.

Stefano’s heart begins to pound with a mixture of fear and excitement, and he swallows, mouth suddenly quite dry. “Must we?” He asks when he has found his voice again.

He has known since their first meeting that he finds Sebastian attractive, but even more than that, Sebastian is kind, and Sebastian makes him feel safe, and those are not things that Stefano is willing to give up under the current circumstances. If Sebastian finds out how he really feels, he is risking a lot more than a stinging rejection.

He is no longer sure of his ability to survive alone in Silent Hill, and he has no desire to put that to the test. As much as he enjoys the meaningful looks, the little touches, the moments of comfort they find in each other, those things are safe because they don’t acknowledge them, because they don’t dig too deep. If Sebastian wants to talk about them, it could spell disaster for them both.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Sebastian says, “but I like it.” That smile is back on his face, and his cheeks are tinged pink again. It seems that it doesn’t take much to make Sebastian blush, and Stefano finds it quite endearing. In fact, he can’t keep from smiling a bit himself.

“I am enjoying it as well.”

He almost says more. There is of course much more to say, but he stops himself. The risk is just too great.

“Joseph and I were like this sometimes,” Sebastian says, taking Stefano by surprise, because he was not expecting to hear about Joseph in this context. “Not holding hands, I mean, but sometimes we would hug or put a hand on a shoulder or something...just casual touching.”

Stefano raises an eyebrow, because Sebastian’s idea of what constitutes casual touching seems to be much broader than his own, but then Sebastian continues, “I never thought much about it at the time, but now I wonder if we couldn’t have had something more.”

“Were you attracted to him?” Stefano asks, curiosity overcoming his reservations.

“Um...maybe,” Sebastian replies, though his face, which is rapidly moving from pink to scarlet, gives Stefano a lot more information than his words. “Those feelings take some time to build for me. And we were both already married when we met, but we had such an amazing partnership.” He shrugs. “Yeah,” he says finally. “It took me forever to realize it, but I guess I was attracted to him.”

“Had you never been with a man before?”

“No, I haven’t,” Sebastian answers. “I actually never gave it much thought until, uh, recently when I saw the memory of you and Andre.”

Now Stefano is sure he is blushing too. He remembers those afternoons in the barracks, the fleeting touches and stifled moans, the excitement of finding someone else who was like him, even if they did have to be very secretive about it. “We were very fortunate that we were never caught.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, “I would imagine the army isn’t too understanding about things like that.”

“Many people are not,” Stefano replies. This is not an avenue he wants to explore, but then Sebastian gives his hand a squeeze.

“I saw some of that too, I think,” he says. “Your father, I mean. I couldn’t understand him, but he seemed pretty angry.”

“Yes, well you can hardly blame him,” Stefano says. He can tell the bitterness is creeping back into his voice, but there is nothing he can do to suppress it. He knows exactly which memory Sebastian is talking about, and it’s one he wishes he could leave behind. “I turned out to be quite the disappointment.”

“Don’t say that.” Sebastian’s thumb is rubbing the back of his hand now.

“It is true,” Stefano says, eye fixed on the floor again. “I resented him at the time, but now I suppose I understand. He was only trying to spare me the darker aspects of life for someone like me.”

“By trying to turn you into someone else?” Sebastian prompts.

Stefano laughs in spite of himself, because when Sebastian says it that way it does seem rather absurd. “So it seems. I did choose my own path in the end, though I am still not certain it was the correct one.”

“I don’t think anyone’s ever sure about that,” Sebastian says, “and of course I don’t know what you’ve been through, but whatever path you took, I’m glad you’re here right now.”

Sebastian gives his hand another squeeze and Stefano can’t help but smile again. He feels much more confident in Sebastian’s acceptance now, but he still needs to hear it from him.

“It doesn’t bother you that I’m…?”

“Of course not,” Sebastian says. “That’s not the kind of thing that should bother anybody. Besides, I pretty much just admitted to having a crush on my partner.”

“True,” Stefano replies, “though you would not be the first hypocrite I have encountered.”

“And I’m sure I won’t be the last,” Sebastian says. “People are terrible sometimes.”

Stefano nods but doesn’t speak. He knows this all too well.

“I also saw your sister,” Sebastian says after a few seconds of silence.

“Aria,” Stefano says. “Yes, she and I were very close when we were young. Or when she was young, at least. I was quite a few years older than her.”

“Are you still close?”

“No,” Stefano says with a shake of his head. “After the war, we...fell out of touch. She tried to contact me later, when she was older, but I did not want her to see me like this.”

“What do you mean?” Sebastian asks. Stefano can’t tell if he is being deliberately obtuse or if he is really so naive as to not realize the kind of obstacle Stefano’s appearance poses to interacting with others.

“Well, look at me,” Stefano says, turning back to face Sebastian and pushing his hair out of his face for emphasis.

“I am looking at you,” Sebastian replies. He is indeed gazing right back at Stefano, though for once, Stefano is having a hard time reading his expression.

“Have you not considered how most people react to the sight of me?”

Sebastian looks genuinely confused. “I hadn’t actually,” he says. “I understand what you’re saying, but everybody has scars.”

“Not like this,” Stefano insists.

“Well, no, of course not,” Sebastian says. “But everyone has some scars.” He swallows, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer, almost sad. “I bet she’d be really happy to see you.”

There is a hot surge of emotion inside Stefano. Anger, fear, he isn’t even sure, but he snaps, “I would never ask that of her! I would never subject her to that!”

In the next moment, Sebastian is in motion, sitting up and wrapping both of his arms around Stefano, embracing him fiercely, even as he grunts in pain.

“Sebastian-“ Stefano begins to say, but Sebastian cuts him off.

“Don’t say that.” His face is pressed into Stefano’s neck, and his warm breath has Stefano’s heart racing for entirely different reasons than before. “That’s not how it works. That’s not how family works.”

“What?” Stefano says, because as far as he is concerned, Sebastian isn’t making sense right now.

“The right kind of people, the ones who are worth calling family, will stick by you no matter what. They’re not going to care what you look like or whether you’re gay or straight or whatever,” Sebastian says in a rush. He pauses to take a breath before he adds, “They’re the ones who love you for who you are.”

“Sebastian,” Stefano sighs. The searing emotions of a moment ago are gone, soothed away by Sebastian’s words, which are so kind and heartfelt, but also hopelessly optimistic. “That is a lovely idea, but it is simply not going to happen for me.”

“It will,” Sebastian says, sounding very sure of himself. “If you’ll let it.”

Stefano has to stop and think about that for a minute, because it really is quite clever of Sebastian to work his own words back into the conversation. Actually, he’s not sure Sebastian really is that clever, so maybe there is some truth to what he says after all.

Sebastian’s grip on him is looser now, feels less frantic, and Stefano can only hope that Sebastian hasn’t caused himself any additional harm while trying to demonstrate his affection.

“So I know I said we didn’t have to talk about this,” Sebastian says, lightly squeezing Stefano for emphasis, “but it is really nice, and if we get out of here alive, I’d like to see more of you.”

Sebastian lets go, but remains sitting up with the sheet pooled around his waist. Apparently his embarrassment has worn off, because he no longer seems bothered by his state of undress, or perhaps he has just forgotten about it in the heat of the moment.

Stefano smiles, because he is already seeing quite a bit of Sebastian. “I would like to see more of you as well.”

Sebastian’s smile gets wider, if that is even possible. “Good. Now we’ve just got to figure out how to get out of here in one piece.”

“That, I am afraid, is easier said than done.”

“Do we have any more cigarettes? I’d kill for a smoke right now.”

“I think so,” Stefano says, turning to the shelf beside him and checking the pocket of Sebastian’s trousers. There is indeed still a pack of cigarettes in there, but it is all but empty. “Just one left,” he observes.

“Want to share?” asks Sebastian, just as Stefano realizes that he too is craving a cigarette.

“Very much.”

He hands Sebastian the cigarette and his lighter, and Sebastian lights it and takes the first drag. Stefano is suddenly much more aware of the way Sebastian’s fingers grasp the cigarette, the way his lips wrap around the end. Sebastian would actually make quite a good artistic model. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Sebastian raises an eyebrow at him.

“I know I’m not that interesting,” he says, passing the cigarette to Stefano.

“On the contrary,” Stefano replies. “I wish I had more time to study you.”

That gets another blush out of Sebastian. “I, uh, think you probably had enough time while I was unconscious,” he says.

“That was all very professional, I assure you,” Stefano says, because no matter how interested he may have been in seeing Sebastian unclothed, his intentions at the time were entirely medical in nature. He takes a long drag on the cigarette, savoring the slight burn of the smoke in his lungs.

Sebastian laughs, taking back the cigarette when Stefano offers it. “Well, I hope you’ll be equally professional about helping me get dressed again,” he says, “because I’m not really feeling up to any feats of gymnastics right now.”

Stefano laughs as well. He certainly wouldn’t describe getting dressed as a ‘feat of gymnastics’, but he is more than happy to help Sebastian back into his clothes. “Of course I will,” he says. “And, when you are ready, we can see what is waiting for us outside.”


	21. Artifacts

Sebastian holds his breath and cautiously shifts his weight until he is standing squarely on both feet. It definitely hurts, but the pain medication is doing its job, and it’s not unbearable to stand on his injured leg. He lets his breath out slowly, then glances to his right to see Stefano eying him with concern.

“How does it feel?”

“Alright,” Sebastian replies with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. He doesn’t need Stefano worrying about him, not when they both have much bigger problems to deal with. “I don’t think I’ll be running or jumping anytime soon, but I should be okay to walk around.”

“Do not overexert yourself,” Stefano says, though the tone of his voice suggests he thinks Sebastian is going to do just that at the earliest opportunity.

“I’ll be careful,” Sebastian says, and for once, he actually means it. Getting dressed a few minutes ago was a sobering experience. He probably couldn’t have managed it at all without Stefano’s help, and there were many gasps and grunts of pain and murmured apologies.

Stefano still looks more than a little suspicious, so Sebastian elaborates. “I’m serious. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, and I’m not going to throw all of that away.” He fixes Stefano with a serious look. “I’ll be careful.”

Stefano nods, apparently satisfied for the moment, and Sebastian can’t help but notice how much Stefano responds to even the smallest amount of praise or approval. Of course, based on what he’s seen in Stefano’s past, maybe that’s not so surprising. It’s a shame, because Stefano has proven himself to be skilled in several fields even in the short time Sebastian has known him, but of course this isn’t the time to unpack all of that.

Sebastian pauses for a moment to appreciate the relief of being fully clothed again. It’s not that being naked with Stefano was a problem, and in fact, once he got over the initial surprise, he found himself surprisingly comfortable with the whole idea. A small voice in the back of his mind reminds him that he probably wouldn’t mind Stefano removing his clothes again under different circumstances, but he silences it, because now is definitely not the time for those kinds of thoughts either.

He does feel more ready to take on the town now, but something is still off. There is no holster pressing against his hip, and even more troubling than that, he doesn’t remember what happened to his gun after Stefano stabbed the monster.

“Where’s my gun?” he asks. “Did I drop it?”

“No,” Stefano replies with a laugh. “You were most certainly not going to drop it. I had to pry it out of your hand once I brought you here.” He takes the gun and holster from one of the dusty shelves that line the room and hands them to Sebastian.

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, turning the revolver over in his hand. “Didn’t mean to go all Charlton Heston on you.”

That makes them both laugh, though Sebastian’s amusement fades pretty quickly when he pops out the cylinder of the revolver to see that there is only one round left in the chamber. “We’re gonna need to search out some ammo,” he says, turning the gun so Stefano can see their problem.

“Noted,” Stefano says. “I also used up the bulk of the first aid kit treating you, so we should be on the lookout for those supplies as well.”

Sebastian replaces the holster on his belt, then slips the revolver back into it. “Seems like a pattern here,” he observes. “Just enough resources to stay alive, not enough to feel comfortable.”

“Very true,” Stefano says, handing him back his flashlight.

Sebastian considers it for a moment. “I wish we had a second light source,” he says. “We’ve been split up twice and I don’t like the thought of you stumbling around in the dark.”

“I do not think we have that luxury at the moment,” Stefano says, “unless you are proposing we take that with us.” He gestures at the gas lantern on the workbench.

Sebastian is seriously considering it when Stefano laughs again. “I am only joking, Sebastian,” he says. “It would be quite impractical, not to mention how ridiculous you would look.”

“Hey, looking ridiculous has never stopped me before,” Sebastian replies, “though I guess it probably would be a fire hazard.”

“Yes,” Stefano agrees, “and in an emergency, I have used the camera flash for light.”

“Have you thought about what these pictures are going to look like if you actually get around to developing them?” Sebastian asks, because it has just occurred to him that Stefano has been photographing some things that wouldn’t- or shouldn’t- exist in the normal world.

“I have thought about it, but I have no idea how they will turn out,” Stefano replies. “I can only hope the film has not been damaged too badly to be developed.”

“Oh, right,” Sebastian says. “I hadn’t thought about that.” Stefano’s camera has turned out to be so useful as a weapon and a tool for manipulating their environment that its utility as an actual camera has been the least of Sebastian’s worries.

He glances around the small storage room one more time. “Anything here we can use?”

Stefano shakes his head. “No, I had a look around while you were unconscious, and…”

Sebastian only catches the first half of what Stefano is saying, because one of the dusty boxes on the top shelf catches his eyes. The handwriting on it is familiar, draws him in before he can consider what he’s doing. He limps over to the shelf and reaches up to pull the box down. Its weight takes him by surprise, and he staggers for a moment.

“Sebastian,” Stefano says sharply. “I said there is nothing useful here.”

“This is Myra’s handwriting.”

He carries the box over to the workbench, setting it down on top and pulling out his pocket knife to cut the tape holding the lid closed.

Stefano’s hand is on top of the box.

“Sebastian.” Stefano’s voice is firm. “Nothing good can come of this.”

A hot flash of anger runs through Sebastian’s body. “You knew?” He turns to face Stefano, eyes blazing. “You knew about this and you didn’t say anything?”

Stefano’s answer comes out in a rush of words. “I found memories in these boxes, artifacts from my own past, so it does not surprise me that there are some from yours as well.”

“And you were just going to let me leave here without telling me?” Sebastian snaps.

“Yes,” Stefano says, his voice rising as well, “because it is a trap, Sebastian. You-“

Sebastian is already pushing Stefano’s hand away and cutting into the box. He lifts the flaps to look inside.

“This is impossible.”

The box is empty except for one thing: a doll made of yarn. Sebastian would know it anywhere, because Myra made it for Lily. She made a whole set of them, and Lily played with them every day.

The doll he is looking at now is the one that represents Lily herself, and Sebastian picks it up, holds it in his hands as carefully as he used to hold Lily. The bright, button eyes stare up at him, accuse him. That cold, tight feeling in his chest is coming back.

“This can’t be here. This burned up in the fire.”

“Yes,” Stefano says. “It is not real. This is just the town trying to…”

Stefano is still talking, but Sebastian can only hear the beating of his own heart, the blood rushing through his veins. His range of vision has narrowed down to just the doll in his hands, because he knows he should take it with him. He should keep it safe, but he also knows he won’t be able to protect it, the same way he wasn’t able to protect her.

The doll feels hot in his hands, and maybe his eyes are deceiving him, but there is a wisp of smoke coming out of it. He turns it over, tries to find the source of the smoke, but before he can see where it’s coming from the doll bursts into flames.

His instincts tell him to drop it, but he overrides them, clings to it desperately even as it scorches the skin of his hands. It’s not Lily. He knows it’s not Lily, but it’s a link to her. It’s something that belonged to her, and Sebastian has so little to remember her by.

The pain is searing at first, hot and sharp and lighting up the nerves endings all along his hands and fingers. His flesh is peeling off, dropping away even as the doll becomes ash in his hands.

“Sebastian!”

Stefano is shouting now, but he doesn’t understand what Sebastian is feeling. He has never lost a child, and of course this all seems crazy to him even though it makes perfect sense to Sebastian.

Then the pain is gone all at once, and Sebastian wonders if the fire has finally burned away the nerves in his hands, but no, his skin is intact, unburnt, but covered in the ashes left by the burning doll.

“Sebastian.” Stefano’s hand is on his shoulder, and Stefano’s voice is much clearer now. “Sebastian. What was that?”

“That was Lily,” Sebastian says. His voice is flat. He feels like crying, but apparently he has no more tears left.

“No,” Stefano says. “That was not Lily, Sebastian. That was not even something of Lily’s.” The ashes are running through Sebastian’s hands and onto the floor as Stefano continues to speak. “What reason would there be for anything of Lily’s to be here?”

“To torture me,” Sebastian offers. “And it’s working.”

Stefano moves his hand to Sebastian’s back, letting it rest between his shoulder blades. “It is working because you are allowing it to work.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do then?” Sebastian snaps, exasperated. “How do I beat it?”

Stefano sighs. “I wish I could tell you. I fear we may be here until it is finished with us.”

“Then why does it matter if I let it get to me or not?” Sebastian presses. “If all of this is arbitrary, why not just give up?”

Stefano removes his arm and steps away so he can look Sebastian in the face. “Are you really so ready to give up again?”

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“I think you know what I mean,” Stefano replies, and Sebastian can hear the disappointment in his voice.

“I wasn’t giving up back at the overlook,” Sebastian insists. “I just didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

The last of the ashes have drifted down to the floor now, and Sebastian stares down at his empty hands, longing for the white hot pain from the flames, longing for anything but the crushing emptiness inside him.

Then Stefano is stepping forward into his arms, embracing him fiercely.

“I know,” Stefano murmurs in his ear. “I know, but you have to fight it. If you keep letting it manipulate you, you are going to end up dead. We are both going to end up dead...or worse.”

Sebastian wraps his arms around Stefano, pulls the other man tightly against him. It doesn’t kill the pain, but it’s still someone to hold onto, and right now that means a lot. “You’re real, right?” he asks. He feels a little silly for asking it that way, but in a place that is actively trying to deceive them, it only makes sense to question everything.

“I am,” Stefano replies.

“And we’re going to get out of here, right? We’re both going to get out of here?”

Stefano hesitates. “I do not know,” he says, “but if we can keep our wits about us, I believe we have a chance.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says. “That’s good enough for me.” He gives Stefano one final squeeze and lets go, stepping back to collect his thoughts. His eyes stray to the boxes on the shelves again.

“Sebastian.” There is a note of warning in Stefano’s voice now. “You cannot learn anything from these boxes that you do not already know.”

There is a strange, unsettled feeling in Sebastian’s stomach at the thought of leaving these boxes unopened, but Stefano is right. If the town is using his own memories against him, there is nothing new to be learned here, even though he does desperately want to know what is inside the other boxes marked with Myra’s distinctive handwriting.

“Okay,” he says with a nod. “Then let’s get going. I don’t want to stay here anymore.”

“I think that is for the best,” Stefano agrees.

Sebastian shuffles to the door and pulls it open, still trying not to put too much weight on his injured leg.

The world outside is...different somehow. Before they went into the hospital, the fog was thick, but there was sunlight somewhere behind it. Now it looks more like a stormy evening. There is enough natural light to see, but the sky is covered with grey clouds, and the street is covered in white fog. A light drizzle of rain is falling.

Most alarmingly, the doorway Sebastian is standing in is only four feet from a sharp drop into a deep ravine, the pavement cracked and broken at the edge as though a whole section of the town has simply sunk into the earth.

“That is where the hospital used to be,” Stefano says from behind him.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian observes. “Good thing we got out of there when we did.”

He turns to flash Stefano a smile. The last few minutes have been a whirlwind of emotions, but seeing this gaping hole where the hospital once stood is actually lifting his spirits a bit. There’s a reason he wasn’t pulled down into that deep, dark hole along with the rest of the building. He has a friend here, an ally, and maybe more. 

Sebastian has only taken a few stiff steps down the alley when he realizes the problem with their current situation- or at least, the problem with their current situation in addition to how much more slowly they have to move now that he’s injured.

“I’m completely turned around,” he says over his shoulder to Stefano. “I’m not even sure what side of the hospital we went in on.”

“I doubt it matters,” Stefano says. “This is very much like what happened to me before you arrived. I was only oriented to my surroundings very briefly before the town started twisting, taking on a new shape to suit its purpose.”

“I don’t like it,” Sebastian says. He’s probably stating the obvious but it’s true. “We need to get out, and now I don’t know where ‘out’ is.”

“I do not think leaving this place is as simple as finding the physical exit,” Stefano says. “If that was the case, we had our best chance back at the overlook.” He pauses before he asks, “How did you get out of STEM?”

“I’m...not exactly sure,” Sebastian says. He wants to say he fought his way out, but that doesn’t seem like what actually happened, even though he does remember fighting Ruvik and his creations to get back to Beacon. Even then, Beacon wasn’t the real, physical location, and he’s still very unclear on what exactly allowed him to escape back into the real world. “I think I might have had some outside help.”

He shuffles on in silence for a few seconds before he asks. “So do you think we have to complete some task or what?”

“I hope it is something like that,” Stefano says, “though of course I cannot be sure.”

Sebastian hopes it’s something like that too. The other alternative- that the town is just going to torment them forever with no possibility of escape- is too terrible to contemplate.

“If we do have to...do whatever it wants,” Sebastian says, still feeling a little silly for talking about the town like it’s alive, “should we be more cooperative about letting it lead us?”

This question has been on Sebastian’s mind for a little while, especially when he considers that some of the methods the town has used to steer or separate them in the past have been downright dangerous.

“I doubt it matters how cooperative we are,” Stefano replies. “Even if…”

His voice trails off, because they have reached the end of the alley, which opens up onto a wide paved road with buildings on either side of it. Sebastian recognizes it immediately as a kind of civic center. Across the street, he can see what must be the courthouse, and various other government buildings stand to their left and right.

His immediate concern is, of course, whether there are any monsters around, but the whole place is eerily still. Not even the flag hanging outside the courthouse is moving, and Sebastian can’t detect any sign of danger.

Sebastian moves forward into the center of the street so he can see both sides- or at least whatever isn’t obscured by the fog. Stefano follows.

“What was that you said about letting the town lead us?” Stefano asks.

He raises his arm, and Sebastian tracks where he is pointing to a door standing open on the front wall of one of the government buildings. The lettering over the door reads  _ Silent Hill Police Department _ .

Sebastian’s heart sinks, because surely this can’t mean anything good. He turns around in place, looking at all of the other buildings, but there are no other open doors that he can see, and when he looks back at the door of the police station, there is even a faint light showing through the darkness and fog. The town is inviting them in.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Sebastian says, stalling for time. After being stuck inside the hospital for so long, staying outside feels somehow safer. On the other hand, the drizzling rain is slowly dampening his clothes and his spirits, and he can only imagine they’re going to have to enter another building sooner or later to avoid hypothermia. And then there’s the fact that the town obviously wants them to go in here…

Stefano, for his part, is silent, apparently waiting for Sebastian to work through his internal struggle.

“We probably have to go in there, don’t we?” Sebastian says finally.

“I would be quite surprised if we can avoid it,” Stefano replies.

“Alright,” Sebastian says. “Let’s go. I’m already wet enough as it is.”

“Very well,” Stefano agrees.

Sebastian limps over to the door with Stefano close behind him, and with one last look at the outside world, he steps over the threshold into the darkened lobby of the police station.

The first thing he sees is a humanoid figure standing across the room from him. He nearly jumps out of his skin, and his hand goes to his revolver before he has a chance to process that the figure is too still, too rigid, and when his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he can see that it is, indeed, a statue that spooked him.

He takes a couple more steps, taking out his flashlight to scan the room for any threats, before his eyes return to the figure. Now that he can see better, it’s clearly Lady Justice, scales held high in one hand and a long sword clasped in the other. A blindfold covers her eyes. Sebastian has seen the image before of course, but this statue, life-sized, elevated on a pedestal, and covered in some kind of shiny golden finish, seems way too gaudy for the lobby of a police station.

Even more out of place is the massive clock set into the wall above the statue. The pendulum is still, and the hands are frozen in place. The sight of it is a harsh reminder that, even if the clock was running, they have no idea what time it is or what day it is or if time means anything at all in this town.

“This place is a lot...grander than Krimson City’s police station,” Sebastian says.

Stefano has stepped up to stand beside him, and he offers a noncommittal hum as Sebastian casts his eyes around the room. Maybe grand isn’t quite the word for it, because it’s still clearly an institutional building, but the lobby is large, and lined with heavy wooden benches, and Sebastian can imagine that when everything was clean and the floors were polished, this place would have been impressive in its own way.

Now it looks like it’s been abandoned as long as the rest of the town. There is a thick layer of dust on everything, and the faint light they could detect from outside is coming from a bright lamp somewhere on the other side of the reception desk, behind a layer of frosted glass. Of course, it’s not the kind of reception desk they can just walk behind either, since the counter and glass fully enclose the office area.

Once Sebastian finishes his visual sweep of the lobby, finding nothing else of note, he turns to Stefano. “Well, if we’re going to test our theory, we need to get on the other side of that glass.”

Stefano nods. “I am sure that will be easier said than done.”

There are four doors besides the front entrance, two of them on either side of the Lady Justice statue, one on the same wall as the reception desk, and one on the wall opposite. Logic would dictate that the door on the same wall as the reception desk would be most likely to lead to the office behind it, but of course, this is Silent Hill.

Sebastian heads for it anyway, glancing over his shoulder to see that Stefano is following. Even though the town has demonstrated that it can and will separate them if it chooses to, he is not eager to let Stefano get too far away from him. He reaches the door and tugs on the handle, but it stays shut tight. There is a card reader beside it, though it doesn’t appear to be powered up at the moment.

“I think we need a card to get in here,” he observes. “Unless there’s something we can turn into a projectile.” He taps on the frosted glass over the desk, but it feels thick.

Stefano smiles. “Much as I might feel like breaking something in this town, I do not think there is anything here we could even lift.”

Sebastian turns to face the room again. Stefano is right. The benches are long and probably weigh a few hundred pounds each, and unless the statue comes apart somehow there’s nothing in the room that’s small enough to move.

“What do you think?” Sebastian asks. “Do we try some other doors or go back outside?”

He looks over Stefano’s shoulder through the open front door. It’s darker now, and the fog is thick. The rain is still coming down, and he shivers involuntarily until Stefano’s hands land on his shoulders. They are warmer than they have any right to be.

“Let’s check the other doors,” Stefano says, giving Sebastian’s shoulders an affectionate pat before he turns away. “And remember to sit down if you are feeling tired.”

“I’m alright,” Sebastian says. Even if time has no meaning here, he doesn’t want to stay a moment longer than he has to. Of course with their luck, none of these doors are going to open, and this is going to turn out to be some weirdly compelling dead end.

Stefano goes first to the door on the left side of the statue. It’s locked, as Sebastian predicted, and it also has a card reader beside it. It looks like if they want to make any progress here, they’re going to need to restore power to the card terminals and get their hands on a keycard.

He’s surprised when the next door Stefano tries, the one to the right of the statue, actually opens with an ear-splitting screech of metal on metal.

Sebastian can’t figure out how the hell one ordinary-looking door is making such a racket, when he realizes the sound isn’t coming from the door; it’s coming from the clock. The screech fades away, but the counterweights are shifting, and Sebastian can hear the clunking and grinding of gears coming from behind the clock face.

The rhythmic pulsing, the grinding of machinery is familiar. It only takes him a moment to realize it’s the same sound he heard over the radio the last time he was separated from Stefano in the hospital, when Stefano was talking in that strange, trance-like voice. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

“What is this?” he shouts to Stefano over the noise. “What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know!” Stefano shouts back, one hand still clutching the handle of the door as they both look up at the clock.

The pendulum begins to swing, back and forth, ticking out the seconds in a rhythm that matches Sebastian’s pounding heart. The floor under him is vibrating with the motion of the machinery, and the statue looks almost threatening now as it looms over him and Stefano on its pedestal.

He is seriously considering making a run for the front door now, but when he turns to look at it, the door slams shut with such finality that he’s sure it’s not going to be opening again anytime soon.

The rhythmic ticking is rising above all of the other noise, embedding itself deep inside his brain, and he needs to get out of this room. He looks to Stefano, who seems to have reached the same conclusion, because he jerks his head toward the open doorway beside him.

As usual, it’s their only choice. He shuffles over as fast as he can, flashlight in hand, and follows Stefano across the threshold and into darkness.


	22. Synthesis

Stefano turns to make sure Sebastian is still behind him even as the door back to the lobby slams shut. The clicking and grinding of the clock is almost as loud on this side of the wall, and now the air raid siren is back, soaring over the other noise to a volume that is almost painful. He can’t hear what, if anything, Sebastian is saying, and all he can see in the darkness is the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight swinging erratically. Before Stefano can get out of the way, Sebastian crashes into him, and Stefano has to make a wild grab for the other man to steady him so Sebastian doesn’t end up on the floor.

He pivots around, pulls one of Sebastian’s arms over his shoulders, and throws his other arm around Sebastian’s waist so they can move faster. Sebastian seems to be fully cooperative with this plan, because he’s hobbling as fast as he can, letting Stefano support some of his weight.

Stefano isn’t even sure exactly what they’re running from, but the siren is ear-splitting now and he is in full fight-or-flight mode. His heart is pounding, and whatever dark purpose of this town is wrapped up in that clock in the lobby, he doesn’t want to be there when it is fully realized. Of course, between Sebastian’s injury and the lack of adequate lighting, they’re not covering that much distance.

Stefano spots a door up ahead, and veers in that direction. It only takes Sebastian a moment to catch on and let Stefano steer him through the door and into the room beyond it, which turns out to be an office of some sort. The door closes behind them, and the siren fades away almost immediately. He can still hear the ticking of the clock, but it’s less urgent now, no longer invading his consciousness.

He turns to face Sebastian, still supporting him. Their faces are inches apart. Sebastian is panting from the exertion, and Stefano is suddenly seized with the urge to close that distance and press his lips to Sebastian’s. His adrenaline is high, and his breath is coming fast, and he remembers kissing Andre, clinging to him while his blood raced and his heart soared, and even though this is an entirely different situation, it’s somehow similar.

He stops himself, silences those thoughts, because now is not the time. Sebastian is holding him for support, not out of passion, and Sebastian’s labored breathing was caused by a very different kind of physical exertion. They were just running for their lives, and it is insane that he is even having these ideas right now.

More importantly, he stops himself because he’s not sure Sebastian is ready for something like this. He did kiss Sebastian on the forehead earlier, and it seems that either Sebastian was comfortable with that or was too deeply entrenched in his grief to notice it, because he made no comment. Stefano is unsure how a more passionate kiss would be received, but as Sebastian has admitted he’s never been with a man before, it’s probably wise to let him take the lead on any escalation of physical contact.

Sebastian takes a few deep breaths, and then a lurching step to his left to sink into a chair, effectively breaking the moment. Stefano lets out a long breath himself and takes a seat on the edge of the desk he can see illuminated by Sebastian’s flashlight. The beam is still rising and falling slightly with Sebastian’s breathing, but it is much steadier now, and Stefano can see that they are in a medium-sized room with seven or eight desks arranged in clumps. He can see nothing else remarkable at the moment, so he turns his attention back to Sebastian.

“Holy shit,” Sebastian gasps. “What the hell is going on here?”

“I have a theory,” Stefano offers.

“Please,” Sebastian waves a hand to signal him to continue. “Your theories have been pretty damn useful so far.”

“Well, this one may not be terribly useful,” Stefano says, “but it seems to me that the siren typically indicates a major shift in the building- its layout or our ability to leave it, for example.”

Sebastian nods. “Fair enough. What about the clock?”

“I do not have much of a theory about that unfortunately,” Stefano says, painfully aware of the still-audible ticking now that Sebastian has drawn attention to it. “Though it is making me rather anxious. Do you suppose we should keep moving?”

“Probably,” Sebastian replies, pushing himself to his feet. Stefano stands as well, prepared to assist Sebastian if necessary, but even a brief rest seems to have allowed him to regain some stamina. “Also, it’s probably worth checking these desks. I’d like to think there’s going to be some ammo in the police station of all places.”

Their search of the desks isn’t as productive as Stefano had hoped, though it does turn up a few stray cartridges that are compatible with Sebastian’s gun, and some additional bandage material for their first aid kit. There are a few doors in the back wall of this room, but they only lead to other small rooms with tables and chairs in them.

“Interview rooms,” Sebastian says, before he turns back to the door they came through. He limps over to it, takes the handle, and pauses for a moment as though listening. Stefano isn’t sure what he is listening for. All he can hear is the faraway ticking of the clock, and his own heartbeat, which thankfully has slowed down quite a bit since they stopped running.

Sebastian eases the door open, and raises his flashlight to scan the hallway before stepping out into it.

“Looks the same,” he comments. “Not that I saw that much in the dark anyway.” He turns left, away from the lobby, which is a relief to Stefano. He still can’t explain why, but his instincts tell him they need to put some more distance between themselves and that clock.

He stays close to Sebastian, both to share his light and to be nearby in case he loses his balance, though Sebastian seems to be doing much better in that regard now that he’s not trying to run.

They reach what appears to be the back of the building, or at least, the end of the corridor, and turn left to find another long corridor. There are doors at regular intervals along either side, and now that the ticking of the clock has faded away to be almost inaudible, Stefano is more willing to consider the possibility of doing some exploration.

Sebastian must be of a similar mind, because he tries the first door on their left, and it opens to reveal a space lit with red-tinted emergency lighting. Stefano follows Sebastian inside where he can see that this room is much larger than the last. There are numerous desks in cubicles in the center of the room, and each wall is lined with individual offices or other small rooms. Sebastian wastes no time in starting to search one of the desks, and Stefano follows his lead.

The lighting is dim, but it covers much of the room, so Stefano can see well enough to work his way up the cubicles on the other side of the room, paralleling Sebastian. He is busy pulling out all of the drawers of his current desk when Sebastian speaks.

“Can I ask you a question about Andre?”

Stefano tenses reflexively at the name, but there is no reason to deny Sebastian this opportunity. He should be able to answer a simple question about his former lover. He clears his throat, then answers, “Yes.”

“You told me a little bit about him- or I guess a little bit about your relationship- but I get the impression your feelings about him were more complex. Is that right?”

Stefano has to admit this is remarkably perceptive for the Sebastian he knows, though someone who made his career as a detective should be able to read those nuances in others. “Yes,” he replies after a moment of hesitation. “Not how I felt about him exactly, but how I felt about myself in relation to him.”

He can hear the sounds of Sebastian searching a desk before Sebastian says, “What do you mean?”

“I loved him,” Stefano says, feeling his cheeks burn to say it out loud, even here in this darkened room where no one can see him. He swallows hard, because the next part is going to be even harder to say. “But I also failed him.”

“What?” Sebastian says, pausing in his rummaging. “How?”

Stefano moves on to the next cubicle, but he isn’t searching anymore. He casts his eye over the dusty desk and its contents without seeing.

“He saved my life, you know,” he says. “This was before we had even met, when he was just another nameless, faceless soldier. I am sure he did not think much of me at the time either, but there was an airstrike on our post, and I was injured- not badly, but knocked unconscious.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “He dragged me out of the wreckage, away from the bombs, to safety. That is the kind of man he was- the kind who would risk his own life to save a stranger.”

Sebastian doesn’t speak.

“But when it came time to return the favor, I could not. It was not that I did not wish to help him, but I was rooted to the spot.” His face is burning again, but this time it is with shame. He plunges on. “My reaction was to raise my camera- my camera, Sebastian,” he repeats for emphasis. “And you can see all the good that did.” Tears are welling in his good eye now, and his damaged one is burning. “I am not even half the man he was.”

“Hey-”

Sebastian’s sudden reappearance on this side of the cubicles makes Stefano jump, but then Sebastian’s arms are wrapped around him and he relaxes into the embrace. Sebastian may not be able to fix the past or make things right with Andre, but it does feel so good in this moment to be held by him.

“What were you even going to do in that situation?” Sebastian asks. Then after a pause, “Seriously, what could anyone have done differently?”

“I don’t know,” Stefano sniffs, “but surely there was something-”

“There wasn’t.”

Stefano is about to protest, but Sebastian speaks again, “I saw it in the picture- you know, when I stepped inside it. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Stefano’s face is buried in Sebastian’s shoulder, but he shakes his head.

“I mean it,” Sebastian murmurs, turning his face so that his lips graze Stefano’s temple. “You reacted exactly the way anyone else would have. Even the trained soldiers couldn’t do anything else. There wasn’t any time.”

Stefano is hearing Sebastian’s words, but the touch of Sebastian’s lips on his skin makes his heart stutter and his face go hot for the third time in about five minutes. He doesn’t think about what he’s doing, just turns his head slightly, enough to invite Sebastian, but not enough to make the decision for him, and then Sebastian’s lips are on his, and his head is spinning.

The kiss is soft at first, chaste, comforting. He has time to consider the way Sebastian’s hands are splayed across his back, the way Sebastian’s beard tickles his face, the way that, even though Sebastian is only a couple of inches taller than him, he feels completely surrounded by Sebastian’s presence.

That safety, the idea of being enveloped in someone and protected from a hostile environment, calls to him in a way that simple lust never could, and in the next moment he is tightening his grip on Sebastian’s waist and kissing back with reckless intensity. He can’t get close enough to Sebastian, can’t feel enough of his body as his hands roam across his back and sides, can’t taste enough of his mouth.

Sebastian is still for a moment, but then he is reciprocating with equal enthusiasm, and for a few seconds Stefano feels like they are struggling against each other even though their goal is clearly the same. He pulls back, panting, before resting his head on Sebastian’s shoulder, trying to think of what to say, how to explain his behavior.

“I am sorry,” he says. “I...I miss him very badly.”

It strikes him immediately that he has said exactly the wrong thing, that it is very bad form to bring up one’s former lover right after kissing someone else, but Sebastian only rubs his back and kisses his temple again, beard scratching lightly against his skin.

“Of course you do,” Sebastian murmurs. “You never got to say goodbye, like me and Joseph.”

Stefano is about to answer that it’s really much more than that, when he realizes that, while he did not get to say goodbye to Andre while he was alive, he did have some kind of meaningful interaction with Andre in the hospital a few hours ago. It makes him feel a little better to remember it, even if he knows that wasn’t the real Andre, that he was talking to a vision or a ghost inside his own head.

“And I think you’re forgetting what happened back at the hospital,” Sebastian continues, almost as though he can read Stefano’s thoughts. “How you saved me. I think he would have been proud.”

Stefano smiles against the material of Sebastian’s shirt. He actually hadn’t considered the similarities in those situations until now, but maybe there is part of him that can put his own safety aside to help another. It certainly seems like that’s what happened back at the hospital when Sebastian needed his help.

The next thought that crosses Stefano’s mind is that he just kissed Sebastian and that he would very much like to kiss him again. He lifts his head, turning slightly so that his mouth brushes Sebastian’s, and Sebastian pulls him close again, kissing him deeply. Even if Sebastian has never been with a man before, it doesn’t seem to be causing him any trouble now.

When Stefano pulls back this time, Sebastian rests his forehead against Stefano’s and says, “I’m really glad you did that. I’m not sure I would have been brave enough to try it.”

Stefano has to laugh at that. They’ve been talking about Andre’s bravery and his own, but as far as he was concerned, Sebastian’s courage was never in question. From what Stefano has seen, he is much more prone to recklessness than cowardice, but he supposes that the courage to take action in a life or death situation is different than the courage to act on one’s romantic impulses, and clearly Sebastian needs him to lead the way on the latter.

“That’s quite alright,” he says. “I can be brave enough for the both of us.”

Sebastian smiles. “I know,” he says. “And I’ll get better. It just takes me some time to warm up to people.”

Stefano doesn’t think that’s an accurate statement about Sebastian, as the other man was willing to share some very intimate details about himself even when he and Stefano were almost strangers, but perhaps Sebastian is referring to matters of physical intimacy. Either way, Stefano can be patient. Sebastian has, after all, had a rather difficult time with most of the people he has loved.

“That is understandable,” Stefano says. He is about to tell Sebastian to take all the time he needs, but almost as if on cue, the ticking of the clock, which had faded almost completely into the background, becomes much more apparent. Stefano can’t be sure whether it is actually getting louder or whether he is suddenly noticing it now that he is not distracted by Sebastian’s lips, but Sebastian must hear it too, because he goes stiff in Stefano’s arms.

They take a step back from each other and freeze, both listening.

“I hate that sound,” Sebastian says.

“I am not fond of it either,” Stefano agrees. “We should keep moving.”

Sebastian nods and they head for the next set of cubicles. The search is uneventful, and not particularly fruitful until Stefano gets to the last one.

“Sebastian,” he says, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. “I think you need to see this.”

Sebastian shuffles around the corner, draws level with him, and stops dead in his tracks.

This desk is not like the others. While the other workspaces are dusty and look as though they’ve sat unused for years, this one is pristine- clean and tidy, with everything arranged just so. There is a coffee mug with steam still rising from it, and a closed file folder in the center of the desk. The nameplate reads  _ Detective Joseph Oda _ .

“What...how…?”

Sebastian seems to be at a loss for words, and Stefano doesn’t have anything to say himself. Clearly the town has put this in their path intentionally, much like his hospital report or the photographs in the gallery. He wants to comfort Sebastian somehow, to acknowledge that this must be difficult for him, but he has no idea how to do that.

Sebastian takes another step toward the desk and traces the lettering on the nameplate with his hand, almost as though he doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. He shakes his head. “This is his desk,” he says softly, and Stefano has the impression he may not be talking directly to him. “This is it exactly.”

He touches the coffee mug, then picks up the file folder, taking a deep breath before he opens it. His eyes have only scanned a few lines before his face falls, and he closes the folder again.

“What is it?” Stefano asks, burning with curiosity now, because clearly this document is important enough for Silent Hill to present it to them, but also recognizable enough that Sebastian knew what it was almost instantly.

“It’s an internal affairs report,” Sebastian sighs. “Joseph reported me after Myra left, but before STEM. I was...having some trouble coping with things, and I never let it affect my work, but he still…”

“Still worried about you?” Stefano finishes. “Still cared about your wellbeing?” He makes a conscious effort to soften his voice, because he doesn’t want to sound accusatory. “Work isn’t everything, Sebastian.”

“Now you sound like him,” Sebastian observes with a melancholy smile.

“And I suppose that makes sense, because it also seems like he cared about you a lot.”

Sebastian’s smile is a little more genuine now, a little less sad. “Yeah, I know he did. I just don’t know why it took me so long to figure that out.”

Stefano has some theories about that, but he’s certainly not going to share any of them with Sebastian right now. While other people’s feelings and emotions are sometimes a mystery to him, he has always been quite in touch with his own.

He places a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I am sure he knew how you felt about him. Even if you never acted on it, I am sure he knew.” Sebastian is not a subtle man, and if Joseph was paying enough attention to recognize when Sebastian needed help with his grief, Stefano is confident he was also observant enough to know how Sebastian really felt about him.

Sebastian nods. “He was really sharp- about everything, not just me. He could pick up the tiniest details at crime scenes- things I never would have noticed, but I’ll be damned if most of them didn’t turn out to be really important.”

“Was he always your partner?”

“Actually, my first partner was Myra, but they paired me up with Joseph when Myra and I got married. Joseph actually joked about that the first day we worked together,” Sebastian says with a smile. “Warned me not to fall in love with him. I guess it didn’t work.”

Stefano smiles as well. “I don’t know about that,” he says, “but I can see how that sort of...intense work environment could bond you to someone. It was much the same way with the soldiers- not that they were all romantic relationships of course, but there were very close friendships between them.”

“Brothers in arms,” Sebastian offers.

“Exactly,” Stefano replies. “There is something to be said for associating with people who understand some of the-”

He stops speaking abruptly, because the ticking of the clock is louder now than it was a few moments ago. He is sure of it. It doesn’t make any sense, because the clock is stationary and located all the way at the front of the building, but that doesn’t change the fact that the volume of the ticking is increasing with every passing second.

Sebastian is frozen in place, and Stefano is sure he must have noticed it as well. It’s crazy how such an innocuous sound as a clock ticking can send his heart racing and his palms sweating, but that’s exactly what is happening. His eye is fixed on the door at the other end of the room, which is how he sees the moment the handle starts to turn.

“Hide!” he hisses at Sebastian, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him around to the other side of the cubicles. They drop down to the floor- Sebastian with a grunt of pain- and crawl under the footwell of a large desk.

Stefano doesn’t like this plan, doesn’t like being cornered like this, but this room only has one door that leads back to the hallway, and that’s the door that god-knows-what is coming through. He hears it creak open even over the clock. As if to confirm his worst fears, his radio and Sebastian’s crackle to life simultaneously with a blast of static that makes him jump.

“Shit,” Sebastian mutters, fumbling to turn down his radio as Stefano does the same. He isn’t sure if the sound of the radio itself attracts monsters, but he doesn’t want to find out like this.

Even when the radios are silenced, that infernal ticking is still going, getting louder and louder. Sebastian’s arm is trembling where it touches his, and Stefano puts his hand on Sebastian’s arm and holds his breath. Sebastian covers Stefano’s hand with his own, and they both sit still and silent.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Stefano doesn’t see anything, and he doesn’t hear anything besides the ticking sound, but somehow he is sure that whatever is in the room with them is right on the other side of the partition they have their backs to. He waits, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The air is thick with tension, and he knows he can’t keep this up. He is going to break. One of them is going to break.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Just when he can’t hold his breath any longer, the ticking noise begins to recede, little by little. He draws a cautious breath and feels Sebastian do the same. The door opens and closes again, and the ticking is getting quieter still. He adjusts the volume on his radio, testing to see if the static will come back. It does not.

Sebastian lets his breath out in a great rush. “What the hell was that?” he whispers.

“I never want to find out,” Stefano whispers back, “but I think it is gone now.”

Sebastian nods, then begins to ease his way out from under the desk. He grunts as he pushes himself to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Stefano asks, standing up himself. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten all about Sebastian’s injured leg.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sebastian says. “Just hurts to bend my leg like that.”

He scans the room with his flashlight, peering over the top of the cubicle partition, but seems satisfied that nothing is there.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “That was intense.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Stefano agrees. He follows Sebastian as he shuffles back around to the side of the partition where Joseph’s desk is, but almost runs into Sebastian when he comes to an abrupt halt.

“What-?” Stefano begins to say, but then he catches sight of the desk in front of Sebastian.

The only thing he sees on it that wasn’t there before is a pair of plain black-framed glasses, but the way Sebastian is looking at them tells him exactly to whom they belong.


	23. Questions and Answers

Sebastian stares at the glasses, at Joseph’s glasses. Somehow, they make this whole thing painfully, horribly real. Those glasses are inextricably linked with Joseph in his mind. He’s never seen the other man without them, and he remembers how much Joseph valued them, how hard he worked to protect them. Hell, he remembers facing down the Sentinel in STEM a second time just for the sake of Joseph’s glasses.

And here they are, all alone on the desk in front of him, beside Joseph’s nameplate and his mug of still-hot coffee. There is something unsettling about the whole scene. The steaming coffee mug suggests that the owner of these items has just stepped away for a moment, but Sebastian knows Joseph would never leave his glasses behind voluntarily. Seeing them without him feels wrong in so many ways.

Anger boils up inside him, and he lurches over to the door, ignoring Stefano’s protest, and throws it open, ready to catch whatever abomination left these glasses here, whatever force is trying to manipulate his emotions and his memories.

“What are you?” he shouts, his voice echoing through empty hallways. “Show yourself!”

There is no sound but the ticking of a distant clock.

“Damn it,” he snarls, turning around to find Stefano watching him from a few feet away. The mixture of concern and apprehension on his face is sobering.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says. Stefano doesn’t deserve any of this hostility. “It’s just...this feels deliberate, like it’s toying with us...or at least with me.”

“I agree,” Stefano says with a nod, “and I take it those glasses belong to Joseph?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “He never went anywhere without them. I’m pretty sure he was blind without them actually.”

“I understand,” Stefano says, gesturing to his own face. “We never know how much we rely on our vision until we are without it.”

“You seem to manage pretty well,” Sebastian observes. “When Silent Hill isn’t messing with you, I mean.”

“I suppose so,” Stefano says. “I have very few problems with day-to-day activities. My photography, on the other hand, has suffered quite a bit.”

His tone is flat, but Sebastian can tell this is something that’s important to him.

“I never thought about that,” he says, wishing he had something more insightful to offer.

“No matter,” Stefano says. “Artists are nothing if not adaptable.”

“I don’t know anything about art,” Sebastian replies, “but you’ve definitely proven to be adaptable. I’m not sure we’d still be alive if you weren’t.”

Stefano smiles vaguely at that. “There is more art in life than you realize, Sebastian.”

Sebastian isn’t sure exactly what that’s supposed to mean, but it certainly sounds nicer than a world where everything happens at random, so he returns Stefano’s smile. “Maybe so.”

He limps back to Joseph’s desk and casts his eyes over the contents again. “If everything about this wasn’t so god damn creepy, I’d probably drink that.” He gestures to the coffee mug. “I’d kill for a good cup of coffee right about now.”

“That would be nice,” Stefano agrees, “but probably not worth the risk.”

“I feel like I should take these with me though,” Sebastian says, picking up Joseph’s glasses and turning them over in his hand. There is nothing remarkable about them, aside from the fact that they are undoubtedly the ones Sebastian has seen Joseph wearing day in and day out. He tucks them into his pocket.

They take a quick glance through the adjoining offices and interview rooms, but nothing else jumps out at them as relevant. Silent Hill doesn’t seem to be particularly subtle in steering them, so Sebastian isn’t too concerned about overlooking some vital detail. He’s pretty sure that if something is important for them to see, the town is going to make it very hard for them to miss.

He opens the door and leads the way back out into the hallway, pausing for a moment as Stefano lets the door close behind them to listen to the ticking of the clock. The sound is faint, but after what happened just a few moments ago, it’s still unnerving to hear it at all.

Stefano seems to be on the same page. “Do you suppose the clock is related to...whatever that was in the room with us a few minutes ago.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath before he answers. “Sure seems that way. Now if only we knew what the hell it is.”

“I am sure we will find out soon enough,” Stefano says darkly.

The lines of his face are tense, and Sebastian feels a sudden, inexplicable urge to take him in his arms and soothe those lines away, but of course he can’t do that right now, and even if it was the right time, he isn’t sure how he could convince Stefano that everything’s going to be okay when he isn’t even sure of that himself.

As much as he appreciates having Stefano here with him, it strikes him as cruel that someone who has already suffered more than most people have to endure has also been thrust into this situation, but if Stefano is right- if the town chooses its victims intentionally- then maybe there is some reason for it. Silent Hill hasn’t been able to break them yet, and that has to mean something. 

He turns and pans his flashlight over the hallway in front of them. There is a set of double doors up ahead to their right with windows set into them. It looks like they lead to another hallway and even deeper into the building. Sebastian isn’t sure whether they should be trying to get further into the building or trying to get out, but he still has the vague idea they need to put some distance between themselves and the clock. He pulls one of the doors open, bracing it against his shoulder as he shines his light down this new hallway.

This one has doors on either side as well, though they are more spaced out, which makes Sebastian think these are probably larger rooms rather than offices, maybe training spaces or evidence storage. There is also a new noise, the sound of something rapidly scratching against metal.

He looks at Stefano, whose expression is just as bewildered as his own. He’s about done with weird noises after that last room, but this one seems...less threatening somehow. It stops and starts, and the inconsistency of it is comforting after the ticking of the clock, which he can’t even hear at all anymore.

He doesn’t really have anything to say about the new sound though, and apparently neither does Stefano, so he continues on, opening the first door on their right to see an evidence storage room that looks like it belongs in another century. The walls and shelves are lined with metal boxes, each with its own keyhole.

“Jesus,” he says. “If Krimson PD’s evidence locker was set up like this, we’d never find anything.”

“It looks very organized,” Stefano offers.

“Yeah, but our guys can’t even keep track of one key,” Sebastian says, “and it looks like each of these boxes has its own.”

“That is a lot of keys,” Stefano says, looking up and down the room. “I suspect there is no sense in searching here unless we have some idea of what we are looking for.”

“And where to look for it,” Sebastian agrees, turning back toward the door. There is a peg board on the wall next to it where small keys are hanging, each on its own numbered hanger. There have to be at least a hundred of them. Opening every box would be a tedious task, and one he isn’t eager to undertake.

Stefano steps back into the hallway, and Sebastian follows, letting the door fall closed behind them. He pauses for a moment, listening for the ticking noise he’s now so attuned to, but for the moment at least, it is completely absent.

The scratching noise starts up again though, this time in short insistent bursts punctuated by moments of silence. Even though the sound is objectively weird, it’s not upsetting to Sebastian. It brings a feeling of anticipation, but not a negative one, and under these circumstances that doesn’t make any sense at all.

The next door on the right hand side of the hallway is heavy and metal, and Sebastian is surprised to find that the handle feels cool to the touch. This is somewhat explained when he pulls the door open, though it’s not what he expected to see.

“What the hell…” he mutters, stepping forward into the room.

“Is this a morgue?” Stefano asks from behind him.

“Looks like it,” Sebastian says as he takes in the metal tables in the center of the room and the metal drawers that line one wall. The room is colder than the hallway, though it doesn’t feel as cold as the refrigerated room where they store bodies at the Krimson City ME’s office.

“You seem surprised,” Stefano observes. “Is this unusual?”

“Maybe not for Silent Hill,” Sebastian says, “but our Medical Examiner’s office was in a completely different building. Plus, I’m not sure I want to hang out in a morgue with everything else that’s been going on around here.”

“I cannot imagine why not,” Stefano replies with a snort of laughter. The laughter dies away almost immediately though, and when Sebastian turns to look at Stefano, he points to one of the tables. This one has a black plastic body bag on it. His heart sinks. He’s seen plenty of these in his line of work, and he’s certain Stefano has seen more than his fair share as well.

He turns back to Stefano, who is standing very still. The look in his eye is faraway...haunted.

Sebastian steps in close and places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to,” he says softly. “Just wait for me outside. I’ll only be a minute.”

“No,” Stefano says, voice firm and maybe a little louder than necessary since Sebastian is standing right in front of him. “I am not leaving you.” 

“Alright,” Sebastian says, relief spreading through him. He doesn’t want to be separated from Stefano, but of course he doesn’t want to traumatize Stefano either, so he’ll have to make this quick. “I’ll investigate and then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

The corner of Stefano’s mouth turns up at that, and Sebastian gives his shoulder a squeeze. It’s nice to know that Stefano is still with him enough to appreciate his sense of humor, weak as it is under their current circumstances.

Stefano seems rooted to the spot, so Sebastian turns away from him and cautiously approaches the body bag. It’s the only point of interest in the room, so he can’t ignore it any longer, even though part of him expects something to jump out at him, horror-movie style, as soon as he gets close.

Despite his fears, the body bag stays put, and he steps right up next to the table and takes hold of the zipper at the head end of the bag. He takes a deep breath, not just to steady his nerves, but because years of experience tell him that the smell is not going to be very pleasant, and pulls the zipper down, exposing the body inside.

He almost laughs in relief.

“Stefano,” he calls, turning to look over his shoulder at the other man. “It’s not real. It’s some kind of mannequin.”

He looks back down at the body, which is actually just a very sophisticated model. It looks like some kind of anatomy teaching tool, though that doesn’t explain why it’s here in the morgue in a body bag. Stefano moves to stand next to him, also looking down at the body on the table.

“It may not be real,” Stefano says, “but it is still...rather disturbing.”

Sebastian can’t help but smile at that. “I was going to say ‘fucking creepy’, but your way sounds much fancier.”

Stefano doesn’t seem amused. “It is missing its eyes.”

Sebastian takes a closer look and finds that Stefano is right. The model is extremely detailed. One half of its body and face are covered in some kind of synthetic skin and the other half shows exposed muscle and blood vessels with doors that lift open where Sebastian assumes the organs would be. Its face is also rendered in detail with a full set of teeth in its mouth and deep, empty sockets that must normally hold its eyes. It does look pretty fucking disturbing.

As he looks at it, he notices the door in the exposed side of the chest is sitting slightly ajar, and he lifts it to reveal the interior of the chest cavity. He’s no doctor, but it doesn’t take any expertise to tell that something is missing here as well. “No heart either,” he observes.

Stefano frowns. “I had hoped we were finished with anatomy-based puzzles.”

“No kidding,” Sebastian agrees. He opens some of the other doors on the model, but nothing else seems to be missing. “What do you think it means?”

“I do not know,” Stefano replies. “Once again, it seems we have more questions than answers.”

Sebastian hums in agreement, then turns to the morgue drawers that line the back wall of the room. “I don’t think there’s anything else here, unless…”

He looks from the morgue drawers to Stefano, who shudders in response.

“Take a look if you must,” Stefano says. 

Fortunately for everyone’s sake, the morgue drawers all remain shut tightly no matter how much Sebastian pulls on the handles, and he breathes another sigh of relief when he returns to Stefano. “Guess we’re done in here.”

Stefano nods, and they step back out into the hallway. Sebastian does a quick check- no ticking noise- and then turns his attention to Stefano.

“You okay?” he asks. “You’ve been pretty quiet for a while.”

Stefano gives him a weak smile. “I did not think anything could be much worse than the hospital,” he says, “and I am not sure this place is worse, but somehow I feel…” He shakes his head, unwilling or maybe unable to explain himself.

“Exhausted? Overwhelmed?” Sebastian offers. It’s not a stretch to imagine that’s how Stefano is feeling, since he’s feeling the same way himself.

That gets a little laugh out of Stefano. “Something like that,” he says.

“That’s pretty much where I am,” Sebastian says, “and I had a break much more recently than you. Do you want to find somewhere to lie down for a few minutes?”

“No,” Stefano answers quickly. His eye darts back toward the front of the building before returning to Sebastian. “We need to keep moving.”

Sebastian nods. “Right.” Even though he can’t hear it anymore, the clock isn’t far from his mind. He wishes he could do more for Stefano, that they had time to rest, but time seems to be in short supply right now.

He turns to the next door they haven’t investigated yet. It’s on the opposite side of the hall, and like the others is heavy and metal. He pulls it open, and just then the scratching sound starts up again, clearly coming from somewhere beyond this door. In front of them is a long, concrete hallway with no windows. There is a corner up ahead, so Sebastian can’t see where it leads, and he hesitates on the threshold.

The sound comes again though, and it draws him forward, through the door and down the hallway. He’s walking faster now, gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg, and Stefano jogs to keep up with him, calls his name, but he has to get to the source of this noise. At the intersection, the hallway splits to the left and right, and he takes the right fork, following the sound again.

His heart is beating harder. His feet are moving faster. The noise stops and starts at seemingly random intervals, and it’s definitely getting louder as he reaches the next door and throws it open. The room around him is familiar, though not exactly the same as its counterpart in the Krimson City PD. The walls and floor are unfinished concrete, and on each side of him is metal fencing that forms several pens on each side of the room. The whole thing is bathed in the same dim, red emergency lighting as the office they were in before.

All of the pens seem to be empty except the last one on the left, whose occupant gives two deep, booming barks before going back to digging at the door with his front paws, producing the scratching sounds they’ve been hearing.

“What the hell?” Sebastian says under his breath. “Why would someone…?” He’s about to ask why someone would leave a dog here, but thinks better of it, since it’s kind of a stupid question. They haven’t seen any actual, live people since they got to this town, so maybe a better question is why Silent Hill put this dog here. Even so, it makes Sebastian flush hot with anger, because it seems cruel for this animal to be here alone for god knows how long without water or food.

He strides over to stand across from the occupied run, and the dog perks up at the sight of him, lifting his head to start barking again. He’s a handsome German Shepherd, and even though he’s displaying a lot of teeth every time he barks, his body language is relaxed and his tail is swishing from side to side. He looks more excited to see a person than aggressive, so Sebastian steps in to take a closer look.

He runs the beam of his flashlight over the dog, who actually looks to be in pretty good condition for having been abandoned here. When he gets back to the dog’s face, his breath catches in his throat, because it hits him all at once. This isn’t just any dog.

“Diego?” he says. The dog stops barking and looks at him intently, head cocked to one side.

It’s impossible. It is literally impossible that this is the dog he thinks it is, but he is also one hundred percent sure he could never be wrong about this. His heart is pounding again and there is a strange sense of excitement in the pit of his stomach. He looks the dog up and down, but there’s no mistake. He would never confuse this dog with another one. 

He places his hand flat against the chain link door to the run, and the dog darts his head forward to take one sniff before he emits a kind of hysterical yelp and leaps at the door, pawing at it with renewed enthusiasm. Even if there had been any doubt about what he is seeing, Diego clearly recognizes him too, and Sebastian’s hand is already lifting the latch to the door when another hand lands on it.

Sebastian jumps, because for a minute he’d forgotten Stefano was even here.

“Sebastian,” Stefano says, a note of warning in his voice.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian says. “This is Diego. He was my K9 partner back at KCPD.” He nods at Diego, who is now alternately spinning circles and jumping at the door.

“Are you sure this is wise?” Stefano says. “Need I remind you that we are in Silent Hill?”

“I’m sure,” Sebastian insists. In reality, he’s not sure at all. He’s not thinking at all, but with an old friend right on the other side of this door, there is nothing that’s going to stop him from opening it.

Stefano takes a few steps back as Sebastian lifts up the latch on the door, which turns out to be a good idea, because Diego comes barreling out of the run and launches himself at Sebastian, catching him in the chest with his front paws and knocking him back against the wall.

“Hey, buddy,” Sebastian says, scratching the sides of the dog’s neck as Diego whines and stretches forward to lick him on the face. There is a dull throbbing in Sebastian’s leg, but he barely notices it. It’s as though the intervening years never even happened and they’re back on duty together again.

Diego hops off of him and circles around the room, zeroing in on Stefano, who is apparently not a dog person.

“Is he going to bite me?” Stefano asks, standing very still.

“No,” Sebastian says with a laugh, because Diego resoundingly failed out of the patrol dog training program. “He isn’t that kind of police dog- wasn’t, I mean.”

That one little correction is all it takes to knock the air out of his lungs completely, and he drops to one knee. His leg screams in protest as his brain reels with images, memories, feelings that latch on to his insides and twist them violently even as he fights not to remember. There is a lump forming in his throat, but he forces it back down, forces those memories back into their place.

He lifts his head to watch as Diego approaches Stefano and nudges his hand until Stefano reluctantly pats him on the head. The dog then turns around and bounds over to Sebastian again, spinning in place to plant his shoulder against Sebastian’s chest so that Sebastian can scratch his back, the way he’s done a hundred times before.

Diego feels solid under his hands, and his fur is just as soft as it always was. This can’t be happening. He is certain of that, but even as he tries to tell himself that this is some kind of illusion, some kind of trick the town is playing on him, it just seems too real. Thinking about it is making his head hurt.

He looks up at Stefano, and his face must convey at least some of what he is feeling, because Stefano musters a sympathetic smile.

Everything in this town comes with a price.


	24. Symmetrical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads-up that this chapter does include mentions of animal illness and death.

Sebastian looks so utterly forlorn that Stefano genuinely doesn’t know what to say. It seems ridiculous to offer Sebastian his condolences for the loss of this dog when it is right in front of them, but it also seems foolish to speak any words of comfort, as this is almost certainly some trick the town is playing on them.

“So what kind of police dog is Diego then?” Stefano asks, hoping to distract Sebastian from his apparent misery. To this end, he refers to the dog in the present tense, even though he is beginning to suspect that is not entirely accurate.

“We did detection work,” Sebastian says. “Explosives and human remains. He was a dual purpose dog, but he never did any bitework- didn’t have the temperament for it.”

Stefano doesn’t find this too hard to believe, as Diego is currently leaning against Sebastian, tail swishing wildly as Sebastian pets him. Stefano is actually annoyed for a moment that Sebastian isn’t touching him that way, before he realizes how stupid it is that he is feeling jealous of a dog- and a dog who probably isn’t even real, for that matter.

He isn’t sure how to phrase the next question delicately, so he says, “And are you absolutely sure he’s-?”

“Yes,” Sebastian cuts in, his hands going still on the dog’s back. “I was with him when...you know.” He frowns and shakes his head. “Besides, he’d be about eighteen now, and he didn’t even look like this the last time I saw him.”

“I see,” Stefano says. This dog does appear to be in the prime of his life, which means he must be like Andre, a ghost.

Sebastian shoves himself to his feet with a grunt of exertion. “It’s just so fucking weird to see him again,” he says. “I used to imagine I would, but that was so many years ago.” He looks down at Diego, and the grin Stefano saw him wearing earlier is slowly returning to his face.

“Sebastian,” Stefano warns. “Think about this. It cannot be what it seems.”

“I know, I know,” Sebastian says, waving his hand dismissively, “but just let me enjoy it for a little bit.”

“I suspect that is the intent,” Stefano says with a sigh. “Can you think of any other reason you would find this dog here than to cause you suffering?”

Sebastian stares at Diego, and Diego stares back at him, before Sebastian raises his eyes to look at Stefano again. “No,” he says. “You’re right. That’s got to be it.”

Stefano is caught a bit off guard. He fully expected Sebastian to argue with him on this point, but apparently Sebastian has learned something during his time in Silent Hill after all.

“Then leave him here,” he says, voice gentle but firm. “Put him back where you found him and walk away.”

“Absolutely not.” Sebastian’s eyes are blazing, highlighted by the red emergency lighting in the room.

Stefano heaves another sigh. Perhaps Sebastian hasn’t learned anything after all, or perhaps his emotions are overriding his sense of reason. Either way, he is going to make this difficult. 

“You know this is not real,” Stefano insists. “Why even entertain this illusion? Why let the town manipulate you like this?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Sebastian snaps. “If you had a chance to be with Andre again- even if it wasn’t real- even if it was only temporary- wouldn’t you do it?”

Hearing Andre’s name causes his adrenaline to surge for a moment, but he collects himself, thinks about his answer. His first instinct is to snap right back at Sebastian that he has had that opportunity, that he sees Andre in his dreams almost every night, that he has seen him again here in Silent Hill, and that whatever his imagination or this town can generate is a poor substitute for the real thing. He almost says all of those things, but it strikes him as odd that Sebastian is comparing this situation to him and Andre.

He chooses his words carefully. “This isn’t just about the dog, is it?”

“What?” Sebastian says, sounding less angry and more confused now. “No, it’s...I mean, Diego was sort of my first partner, even before Myra.”

His eyes plead with Stefano to understand, and Stefano believes he is starting to. “And you will not leave your partner behind,” Stefano finishes. He originally intended it as a question, but that’s not how it comes out.

Sebastian nods wordlessly.

“Even though you know this is going to hurt you in the end?”

Sebastian nods again, looking thoroughly lost this time, and Stefano feels a rush of sympathy. It requires a special kind of man to voluntarily undertake something like this, but he suspects Sebastian is just that man.

“I can see you will not be talked out of this,” Stefano says. “If we are taking him with us, do you need a leash?”

Sebastian’s face breaks into a grin again, and for a moment it reminds him of how thrilled Aria looked when their father finally relented and told her she could keep the kitten she found in their back garden. Of course, that situation was quite different for so many reasons.

“No,” Sebastian replies. “He won’t go far from me.”

“Very well,” Stefano says.

Diego comes prancing back over to Stefano as though he knows they’ve just decided something very important, and nudges Stefano’s hand again. Stefano does not particularly care for dogs who are regular dogs, much less dogs who are the size of small horses, but he pats Diego on the head anyway.

Sebastian beams. “See, you guys are already getting along.” He crosses the room a little stiffly and leans in to kiss Stefano on the cheek.

‘Getting along’ may be overstating things a bit, but Stefano doesn’t bother to correct Sebastian. The dramatic shift in Sebastian’s mood is troubling, especially when the reason for it is something so tenuous. Stefano doesn’t even really know how to react to the kiss, because he is already bracing himself for whatever terrible conclusion this situation will reach.

Sebastian heads back to the door with Diego trotting behind him, and Stefano follows. This is a terrible idea. Stefano knows this is a terrible idea, but apparently Sebastian is going to have to find that out for himself.

Stefano follows Sebastian back down the hall to the T-intersection, and Sebastian points down the hallway straight ahead, the one they haven’t been down yet. “Might as well see what’s down here.”

Stefano nods in agreement, though in truth he is wondering what other relics from Sebastian’s past might be buried here and whether it will do Sebastian any good to find them.

At the end of this hallway is an area of holding cells for prisoners. This area is also dimly lit, but Stefano can see well enough that he notices a change in Diego’s behavior. The dog trots out ahead of Sebastian, nose in the air. He makes a few quick turns, darting back and forth across the room, then dashes to a desk at the other end of the room, where Stefano imagines a supervisor might sit if this facility was still in operation.

Diego presses his nose to the desk, then takes a step back and begins to bark. He looks over his shoulder at Sebastian, barking a few times before pawing at one of the drawers.

“Alright, alright,” Sebastian says, raising his hand to Diego, palm facing the dog. “What did you find?” Diego stops barking and waits, tail wagging.

Sebastian seems awfully nonchalant about this development, considering the items Diego is trained to find. “Do we need to be concerned?” he asks.

“Probably not,” Sebastian replies, limping over to the desk. “That’s his indication for explosives, but he’s trained to give it for any component.” He pulls open the drawer Diego was pawing at and holds up a box of handgun ammunition. “Gun powder,” he explains.

Stefano raises an eyebrow. If Diego is going to find bullets for them, he may have to reevaluate his opinion of the dog.

“Good boy!” Sebastian says, bending over to pet Diego, who is now prancing around in front of him. If it’s possible for a dog to look smug, this one is doing it. He makes a few more passes back and forth in front of Sebastian before Sebastian stands up again and starts to reload his revolver.

“Is he always working?” Stefano asks, his curiosity getting the better of him now that he sees how useful this dog may turn out to to be.

“He’s supposed to start on command,” Sebastian says, “but I think he’s just showing off now.”

“You don’t say,” Stefano comments dryly, inclining his head at Diego, who has found an old pillow in one of the cells and is vigorously shaking it back and forth, sending stuffing flying in all directions.

Sebastian laughs. “He always was good at entertaining himself. At least he’ll make searching for ammunition easier.”

Once Sebastian has finished loading his gun and convinced Diego to abandon the pillow, they make the trek back down the hall and out to the main hallway they came from.

Diego takes off again as soon as they enter this corridor, and based on Sebastian’s representations about his training, Stefano fully expects him to lead them to the morgue, but instead he makes a beeline for the door to the evidence room, pressing his nose to the small open space between the bottom of the door and the floor and inhaling so loudly that Stefano can hear it from several feet away.

He looks over his shoulder at Sebastian, then turns back to push on the door with his head, but it stays firmly latched. Sebastian and Stefano exchange a meaningful look. Stefano doesn’t need Sebastian to interpret Diego’s behavior to know that there is something he wants to get to in that room.

Wordlessly, Sebastian goes over and opens the door, and Stefano follows closely. Diego may be large and rowdy and generally not the sort of animal Stefano enjoys spending time with, but it is fascinating in a way to watch him work. He and Sebastian step into the room in time to see Diego dash back and forth across the space with his nose in the air, then approach one wall of evidence storage boxes and begin inspecting them one at a time, standing up on his back legs to reach some of the higher ones. He gives a deep sniff at the seam of one of the boxes that is about at Stefano’s eye level, and then jumps down from the wall, dropping into a down position and looking at Sebastian expectantly, tail wagging.

“Where?” Sebastian prompts, and Diego jumps up to touch the same box with his nose before lying down again.

“What does that mean?” Stefano asks, both interested and relieved that Diego isn’t barking this time.

Sebastian looks puzzled. “That’s his human remains indication,” he says, stepping in closer to the box Diego pointed out. “It’s number seventy-eight.”

Stefano turns to the board of keys. He is considering whether they really want to open that box, based on what Sebastian just told him, but quickly realizes that isn’t even going to be an option. “Number seventy-eight is missing,” he reports.

“What?” Sebastian says. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Stefano scans the board, but all of the other keys seem to be in their proper place. “And it is the only one missing.”

“Well that fucking figures,” Sebastian mutters under his breath. He looks down at Diego. “Sorry, boy,” he says. “Can’t get it open.”

Diego jumps up to touch the box again and lies down, repeating the cycle several times while Sebastian tries to explain the situation to him as though he is a person, and Stefano marvels at how someone who utilizes such a highly trained dog seems to be fairly oblivious to the animal’s cognitive limitations.

Finally, Sebastian settles for leaving the room himself and calling Diego after him. The dog looks back and forth from Sebastian to the box a few times, front paws tapping the ground anxiously, but then grudgingly leaves the room to join Sebastian in the hall. Stefano follows, closing the door behind them, though he has little hope that Diego will forget about this room anytime soon.

There is one more door on the opposite side of the hallway, and Sebastian grasps the handle and pushes it open. The room beyond is strangely welcoming, small and lit by an old-fashioned gas lantern, like the one from the storage room. Stefano is beginning to wonder if there is some reason these lanterns keep appearing. They don’t seem to fit into the aesthetic of the rest of Silent Hill.

When Stefano steps over the threshold, he feels just like Diego must have felt in the last room, because the scent that washes over him is familiar, comforting. “They have been developing film here,” he says.

“Oh, right,” Sebastian says. “That’s how we used to do crime scene photos before everything went digital. Developed them in-house and everything.”

Stefano moves further into the room, and in the dim light he can see that the entire back wall is occupied by a counter with a sink and trays of various chemicals. He has felt many things while in Silent Hill, but he has never felt such a longing for his home, for his own studio, as he does now. Everything is here and in the right place, and the part of him that loves routine and predictability urges him to take advantage of that, to do what is familiar.

It’s reassuring to him that Diego doesn’t seem to be having any reaction to this room, and he turns to Sebastian. “Do you suppose we have time to…?” He gestures to the counter.

Sebastian smiles in a way that suggests he’s known Stefano a lot longer than just these hours they’ve spent together. “I have no idea,” he says, “but go ahead if you think we should.”

Stefano pauses for a second, because he isn’t actually sure whether he is simply drawn to what is familiar or whether he really does have a sense about this room, but decides that either way, his instincts are telling him to develop that film.

“Yes,” he says, feeling even more confident now that he is saying it out loud. “Yes, we should.”

“Can I help?” Sebastian asks.

“No,” Stefano says quickly, realizing too late that his response might be considered rude. Fortunately, Sebastian only laughs. “It is a one-man job,” Stefano clarifies.

“Point taken,” Sebastian says. “I should probably get off my feet anyway.” He limps over to a well-worn sofa opposite the counter and sinks down onto it, stretching his injured leg out in front of him. Without waiting for an invitation, Diego hops up onto the sofa as well and sprawls across it, resting his head in Sebastian’s lap.

Stefano flicks on the red-tinted developing light. “Can you turn down the lantern,” he asks Sebastian.

Sebastian obliges, then begins to scratch Diego behind the ears. “Have you always done this the old-fashioned way?” he asks, nodding to the darkroom set-up.

“Yes,” Stefano replies, turning back to the counter and taking his camera out of his pocket. “I prefer to photograph this way, though it is a bit labor intensive.”

“I guess nothing worth having comes easy, right?”

“Not in art at least,” Stefano replies. “One can always tell the soul of an artist, his experiences, from looking at his work. True art requires passion, suffering…”

His words trail off as he begins to work, but Sebastian picks up the conversation.

“It seems like you’ve had more than your share of that.”

Stefano smiles faintly, because even without seeing Sebastian, he can hear the compassion in his voice. Sebastian is so emotionally driven that he could probably produce some very interesting art himself if he could ever learn to channel those emotions.

“As have you, my friend,” Stefano replies.

Diego whines and shifts his weight on the couch, prompting Stefano’s next question. “How long did you and Diego work together?”

“Five years,” Sebastian replies.

There is a long pause, during which Stefano does not speak, because he is sure Sebastian has more to say.

“It’s a different kind of bond with a working dog,” Sebastian says finally. “Different than with a pet, I mean. I know I said before that he was my partner, but that’s really what it’s like.”

“I can see that,” Stefano replies. “I am not so fond of most animals myself, but I can see that the two of you are very close.” He waits a moment to ask the next question, because he isn’t sure whether it is appropriate or not, but he is afraid it is going to become relevant at some point in the very near future. “Will you tell me what happened? How your partnership...came to an end?”

Sebastian sighs. “He got sick...not all at once, but I started to notice things. At first I tried to come up with other explanations- like we were working under bad conditions or he was just having an off-day- but then things started to get worse.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Turns out he had cancer.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Stefano says. “Do they not have treatments for cancer in dogs?”

“They do,” Sebastian answers. “Believe me, they do. We tried all of them, but nothing worked.”

Sebastian’s voice is thick with emotion now, and Stefano turns to look over his shoulder at him. Sebastian is looking down at Diego, who has now rolled over onto his back, blissfully unaware of the serious conversation going on around him. Stefano doesn’t want to interrupt this moment between them, but then Sebastian looks up at him.

“Go ahead,” Sebastian says. “This is the part where you tell me that he’s in a better place, that everything happens for a reason.”

Stefano has heard those platitudes before in his own life along with a multitude of others, and he can’t imagine that Sebastian has found them any more useful than he has, with his dog or with his child.

“No,” Stefano says. “Sometimes there is no reason. Sometimes suffering is just suffering.”

Sebastian nods. “I know what you mean, but I wish that made it easier.”

“As do I,” Stefano says, turning back to his work. A few minutes pass in silence before he asks the question that has been on his mind. “Would you do it all again?”

“With Diego?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes,” Stefano replies.

“Most of it,” Sebastian says. “Most of his life, I mean, but not the part right at the end. If I had a chance to do it over again...I don’t know. I just wouldn’t do it the same way.”

Stefano works in silence for several seconds before Sebastian begins to speak again.

“I guess I feel like I made some mistakes there. Like maybe I shouldn’t have dragged things out the way I did.”

“I am sure there was a reason you were doing it at the time,” Stefano says. In truth, he imagines it was probably the fact that Sebastian’s emotional connection to Diego wouldn’t allow him to let go, but he certainly isn’t going to say that.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, “it was always just one more thing to try, one more day, one more chance to see if things were going to get better, but if I had known at the beginning how bad things were going to get…”

His words trail off, and Stefano doesn’t have to turn around to know he is shaking his head.

“Can I ask you something?” Sebastian says.

“Of course,” Stefano replies, wondering what question Sebastian has that is important enough to prompt this kind of set-up.

“I really hope this isn’t offensive or anything. I definitely don’t mean it to be, but I would imagine as a photographer your eyesight was very important to you. When you lost your eye, did you ever…”

“Did I ever question whether life was still worth living?” Stefano finishes for him.

“Yes,” Sebastian says, the relief audible in his voice. “I’m so sorry,” he adds. “I know that sounds like a terrible thing to say. I just-”

“It is alright,” Stefano reassures him. He knows Sebastian well enough by now to realize that even his seemingly insensitive or inappropriate questions come from a place of genuine compassion.

“I did have those thoughts,” Stefano continues, “but not only after I lost my eye. I think whether life is worth living is a decision we all have to make every day. Men have thrived with much greater disadvantages than I have, and men have decided to take their lives for far less compelling reasons.”

A few more seconds pass in silence before Stefano asks a question that has been on his mind for a while, “Why did you make that decision back at the overlook?”

“Because I’ve just fucked everything up so badly,” Sebastian says. Stefano can hear the raw emotion in his voice, and he sets his materials aside for a moment and turns around so he can give Sebastian his full attention.

“I’ve failed everyone who was important to me in my life- Lily, Myra, Joseph, Diego, everyone. And it hurts, Stefano. It hurts knowing that I failed, and it hurts being alone, and I just didn’t want to hurt anymore.”

Stefano crosses the room, dropping to his knees in front of Sebastian and grasping Sebastian’s hands in his. There are no words for what he wants to convey, but he hopes his actions will do enough. Sebastian squeezes his hands tightly. Diego’s tail thumps against the couch, and he rolls back onto his side to nudge their joined hands with his nose, which makes Sebastian laugh through the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Was he always like this?” Stefano asks, nodding at Diego. “So intuitive, I mean?” Part of him wonders if Silent Hill has given this dog a more human-like personality in order to encourage Sebastian to fully experience their bond.

“Yes,” Sebastian replies. “He’s always been very sensitive to what people are feeling and how people react to him.” He draws his hand back to Diego’s head, taking Stefano’s with it so that they both end up rather awkwardly petting him.

“He wasn’t above doing something silly just to make me laugh,” Sebastian adds. “I think he remembered the things he did that got the reaction he wanted, and he’d try those things if the mood got too serious.”

“He sounds like an exceptional animal,” Stefano observes.

“He was- is.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I don’t know anymore.” He sighs deeply before fixing Stefano with a serious look. “What about you?”

Stefano is about to ask for some clarification, because he has lost the thread of the conversation and how it might apply to him, but Sebastian adds, “Why did you come to Silent Hill?”

Stefano opens his mouth to answer, but Sebastian speaks up again.

“I know you got a letter from Andre, but you knew he was…”

“Dead,” Stefano finishes as Sebastian seems to be unable to say that word.

“Yes,” Sebastian picks up again. “You knew he couldn’t have written the letter. So why did you come?”

Stefano is still stroking Diego’s fur as he answers. “Would you not do the same thing?”

Sebastian looks confused, so Stefano elaborates, “If you received a letter from Lily, if you believed for even one second that you could somehow be with her again, even if the rational part of your brain told you otherwise, wouldn’t you do it? Wouldn’t you at least come to find out?”

“Yes,” Sebastian replies. The tears are rolling down his cheeks now, but his voice is firm.

“There is very little about grief that is rational, Sebastian,” Stefano says, and Sebastian nods, leaning forward to press his face against Stefano’s shoulder.

Stefano’s heart goes out to him. Sebastian is a man driven by his emotions, trapped in a place that is determined to use those emotions against him.

“I don’t want to be alone again,” Sebastian whispers.

Stefano raises a hand to caress the side of his face. “You are not.”


	25. Deconstructed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More discussion of animal illness in this chapter- just mentioning it specifically since there isn't really an appropriate tag for it.

Sebastian leans into Stefano’s hand, because that touch, that human contact is the only thing keeping him in the moment, the only thing preventing him from sinking down into the pit of grief and pain and despair that has opened up inside of him.

Stefano’s words resonate with him. He knows this is irrational. He knows that Lily is dead, that Myra is gone, that Joseph is missing, the same way Stefano knows he didn’t actually get a letter from Andre, but that doesn’t make any of this any easier to bear and it doesn’t keep him from grasping at straws, from trying to relive even a tiny bit of what he experienced when those people were in his life.

Diego shifts on the couch next to him, pressing closer to his leg, almost as though he can sense Sebastian’s internal struggle. This is part of it too- part of the town’s plan. On the surface it looks like the opportunity to get some more time with his old friend, but in reality it’s only a temporary reprieve. He’s interacting with a shadow, a ghost, and any comfort he might get from that is only going to bring the pain back in full force when it is eventually taken away from him.

There are still tears on his cheeks, but at least no new ones are falling. Sebastian isn’t sure it’s even possible for him to embarrass himself in front of Stefano any more than he already has, but he does feel a little self-conscious about his emotional outbursts when Stefano himself is so composed. Even when he is discussing a difficult subject or past trauma, Stefano is detached in a way, and if Sebastian hadn’t witnessed the few moments where that facade slipped, he would have wondered whether Stefano experienced emotions at all.

Whatever Stefano’s emotional state may be, he at least seems to be understanding of Sebastian’s, and Sebastian feels a great rush of relief that Stefano is still here, that Stefano hasn’t left him yet. He covers Stefano’s hand with his own, then turns his head to place a kiss on his palm.

Stefano shivers just the slightest bit, and Sebastian smiles against his skin, but when he turns his head to look at Stefano again, the expression on the other man’s face is unreadable. Stefano’s eye is shining in the dim red light, pupil slightly dilated, and before Sebastian can ask Stefano if he’s okay, Stefano is leaning in closer, wrapping his arms around Sebastian’s neck and capturing his mouth in a kiss, and all rational thoughts fly out of Sebastian’s mind.

Stefano’s mouth is warm and wet and invites the gentle explorations of his tongue, drawing him in deeper and deeper, and there is something about the dark, quiet confines of this room that emboldens Sebastian. He reaches down to wrap his arms around Stefano, urging him closer until he is almost sitting in Sebastian’s lap.

Sebastian breaks the kiss and pulls back to look at Stefano. His head is inclined to the right, exposing his neck, and the smooth, pale expanse of skin is so inviting that Sebastian can’t help himself. He leans in to place a kiss below Stefano’s ear, then begins to work his way down to the collar of Stefano’s shirt.

Stefano is breathing hard now, and Sebastian can actually feel his pulse quicken under his mouth, can feel his heart accelerating under his hands, and there is a surge of adrenaline inside him as well, a little thrill of arousal that sparks in his belly before he catches it, pushes it back down, pushes Stefano away from him, because he can’t do this. He won’t let himself do this.

Diego sits up abruptly, looking from Sebastian to Stefano in mild alarm, as though unsure which one of them is in the wrong here but absolutely certain that they are not supposed to be pushing each other.

Stefano steadies himself, blinking slowly, maybe still a little stunned either by his arousal or by Sebastian’s sudden rejection.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian blurts, reaching a hand out to take Stefano’s, to hold onto him, because he can’t let Stefano misunderstand this, can’t let Stefano leave the same way Myra left, because Sebastian couldn’t get his shit together and his body doesn’t work anymore. “I’m really sorry. I just...that was too much.”

Stefano opens his mouth to speak, but Sebastian quickly adds, “It wasn’t you. I was the one who did it.” He sighs, raking his other hand through his hair in sheer frustration, because there is absolutely no reason why this needs to be so difficult. “I just got carried away, and I can’t do that to you, and I’m sorry.”

“There is no need for apology,” Stefano says, taking a half-step closer and reaching out to take Sebastian’s other hand, so that he is now holding both of them. “But you should know that I hope one day you and I will do much more than that- on your own terms, of course.”

The surge of relief this time is so intense that Sebastian releases Stefano’s hands and throws his arms around the other man, drawing him close so that Sebastian’s face is pressed against his midsection. Stefano’s hands come to rest rather awkwardly on Sebastian’s shoulders, but Sebastian is only concerned with maintaining his grip on Stefano.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into the material of Stefano’s jacket.

“What on earth are you thanking me for?” Stefano asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I have not done anything even slightly remarkable.”

“Thank you for being so understanding,” Sebastian says, his voice still muffled by Stefano’s clothing. He sighs and releases Stefano so they can have a slightly more normal conversation. “I think I told you before that one of the problems Myra and I had was related to…” He isn’t really sure how to finish his thought, but Stefano replies before he has to.

“You did,” he says, taking a step back so he can actually look Sebastian in the face, “though I suspect that was more than a simple misunderstanding.”

“Yes, it was,” Sebastian says. “I tried to explain to her what was going on, that I wasn’t rejecting her, but I think it was really hard for her not to see it that way.” He shakes his head, the frustration he used to feel at the situation with Myra coming back full force even though he’s just talking about it. “I still loved her, and I think she loved me too, but I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t fix whatever was wrong with me, and I couldn’t put it aside long enough to do the things I needed to do to make her happy.”

His voice is rising, and Diego shifts away from him on the couch, looking at him warily. “Sorry,” he says, remember how much Diego hated it when he was angry. “I’m okay. I just-”

“Sebastian,” Stefano says gently, bringing Sebastian’s attention back to him. “I doubt very much that there is anything wrong with you.”

“Really?” Sebastian shoots back, his voice louder than he intends. “Because I can barely even kiss you without hating myself, and if you ask me that’s pretty fucking fucked up.”

Diego oozes off the couch and slinks off to the far corner of the room, head and tail held low. It brings another stab of guilt, but Sebastian doesn’t know what the hell he’s supposed to do about it. Of course, he’s letting him down, the same way he let Myra down, the same way he will let Stefano down.

He is breathing hard, close to tears again, but Stefano steps in and takes Sebastian’s head in his hands. “Shhh,” he whispers. “You’re upsetting Diego.”

Sebastian laughs before he even has time to think about it, because this is not at all what he expected Stefano to say. In fact, up until now he wasn’t even sure if Stefano and Diego were going to get along.

“I know,” Sebastian says quietly. “He’ll be alright, but I’m more worried about you.” Stefano’s hands are gently combing through his hair, soothing away some of his tension, and he is sorely tempted to just enjoy this moment, but he can’t ignore the darker thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. “I can’t give you what you need,” he says.

Stefano’s hands are still in motion, and his voice is a soft rumble. “When did you become such an expert on what I need?”

“I’m not.”

“Then how can you be so sure you will fall short?”

Sebastian heaves a sigh. “Because I always fall short.”

“Your standards for yourself are impossibly high,” Stefano begins. Sebastian draws in his breath to respond, but Stefano continues, “No, listen to me Sebastian. You tolerate so much more in others than you do in yourself. You only fall short by your own measure.”

“Isn’t that the one that matters?” Sebastian asks.

“Not when it makes you so unhappy.”

‘Being happy’ sounds like a nice idea, but not one that Sebastian can apply to his own life. “I don’t know how to change that,” he says finally. “I’m not sure I can.”

“These things take time,” Stefano says. “Probably more time than we have at the moment, but I hope in the future you will allow me to make my own decisions about what I need.”

“Of course,” Sebastian says, because when Stefano puts it that way, it does seem like he’s being a little unreasonable.

Stefano’s hands leave him, and Stefano takes a step back. “Now,” he says, “why don’t you see if you can convince Diego that it’s safe to come back?”

Sebastian raises his head and looks to the far corner of the room, where Diego is lying, head on his front paws and looking hopefully up at him.

“Diego,” he calls, beckoning to the dog and making an effort to put a happier tone in his voice. “Come here. I’m okay now.”

Diego is either very willing to forgive or has already forgotten why he retreated in the first place, because he jumps to his feet and trots back across the room, tail wagging furiously, and presses himself against Sebastian’s legs.

“Good boy,” Sebastian says as he pets the dog. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

Diego turns around and hops up onto the couch again, lying down next to Sebastian as though he is content to pretend the last few minutes never happened. 

Sebastian looks back to Stefano. “Thanks for listening,” he says, feeling like he owes Stefano much more than a simple thank you. “I wish Myra and I had been able to talk more like this,” he adds. “We did talk, I guess, but I just couldn’t get her to understand.”

Stefano nods. “I think perhaps there is also very little that is rational in matters of the heart.”

“You got that right,” Sebastian says, wishing very much that he could be as rational as Stefano about all of these things. “How do you do it anyway?”

“Do what?”

“Stay so calm all the time. I’ve only seen you really react to something maybe twice since we’ve been here, and I feel like I’m just falling apart every couple minutes. How do you keep it together?”

“Oh, that is simply my nature,” Stefano replies, turning back to the counter to keep working with his film. “I do have emotional reactions of course- everyone does- but mine are rather...subdued. I find it allows me to approach things with a clearer head.”

Stefano’s tone is light, airy in a way that sounds a little forced, and Sebastian is immediately suspicious of his response.

“Has it always been that way?” Sebastian asks. “What about before Andre?”

Stefano’s hands falter.

“It was different before Andre,” Stefano replies after a pause. “I felt much more when I was with him than I have since that time. I suppose I have been able to keep my emotions at arms’ length.”

There is a certain vulnerability in the way he says it, as though he is trying very hard to convince himself that this is a good thing. Sebastian words his next question very carefully.

“Do you think you might be able to feel those things again?”

“In truth, I had given up on that after the accident, though just recently I have had reason to reconsider.”

Sebastian can hear the smile in Stefano’s voice, and it brings an answering smile to his own face. However, Stefano does raise another serious issue that Sebastian wants to make sure he resolves beyond all doubt.

“You know your eye doesn’t affect how I feel about you at all, right?” He says hopefully. It feels a bit silly that he even has to say it, but Stefano has dropped some hints that he is sensitive about his appearance and that it may have caused problems for him in the past.

“I know,” Stefano says, turning so that Sebastian can see the faint smile on his face this time. “If it did bother you, I would be able to tell. You are not a difficult man to read.”

Sebastian laughs. “Apparently not. Joseph used to say the same thing.”

“Can you tell me more about Joseph?” Stefano asks, returning to his work at the counter.

“Oh, wow,” Sebastian says with a sigh. “That’s easier said than done.” He stretches his arms out on either side of him and leans back into the couch. Diego raises his head, then rests it on Sebastian’s leg. His tail thumps on the couch as Sebastian scratches his neck.

“Joseph was very driven by rules and procedures,” he begins. “He definitely kept me straight. I probably would have gotten into way more trouble if he wasn’t my partner.”

“You did not follow the rules and procedures?” Stefano asks.

“Not exactly,” Sebastian says. “I might have been a little hard-headed at work sometimes, but I did what I needed to do to solve a case. I think we kind of balanced each other out. I was more of a ‘big picture’ kind of guy, and he was so detail-oriented. I think I already told you how he could pick apart a crime scene.”

“You did mention that,” Stefano says, “though it is interesting that he was so observant when you describe his vision as being so poor.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, reaching into his pocket to absently finger Joseph’s glasses. “He really couldn’t see a thing without them.”

He takes the glasses out, folding out the earpieces and holding them in front of his face. He remembers doing the same thing once on a rare occasion when Joseph had set the glasses down on his desk to rub his eyes after several hours of going through case files. Back then, the world was distorted beyond recognition when he looked through them, but now, he doesn’t really see any difference, at least until Stefano turns to look at him.

There is a bright flash of light coming from the area of one of Stefano’s jacket pockets, and he blinks in surprise, but even when his eyes recover, there is something there, a pulsing white light in an otherwise darkened room.

“Stefano,” he says, “what’s in your pocket?” He gestures to the area where the light is coming from.

Stefano looks confused. “Nothing at the moment. You have the first aid kit, and I am using my camera. My knife is here.” Stefano reaches into his jacket and produces the knife from an interior pocket, but the light remains in place.

“Not that one,” Sebastian says. “Try the outside pocket.”

Now Stefano looks mildly annoyed. “I have told you, Sebastian,” he says, reaching into the pocket as if to prove a point. “There is nothing-”

He stops speaking abruptly, and Sebastian can see his hand closing around something. When he draws it out and extends his hand, palm up, to Sebastian, the light is blinding again, and Sebastian lowers Joseph’s glasses to see what it actually is- a key, specifically the key he removed from Stefano’s body.

“Well, shit,” he breathes. “I forgot all about that.”

The key is small and intricate, and suddenly looks very familiar. In fact, he is almost certain he’s seen about a hundred of them in the room across the hall.

“Do you think-?” he begins, but Stefano is already nodding his head.

“Did the glasses allow you to see that?” he asks.

“Yes,” Sebastian says. “It was shining as soon as I put them on.”

“Then I suppose we must thank your detail-oriented friend for helping us solve that particular puzzle.”

“Well,” Sebastian says, “we won’t know for sure until we try it in the box.”

“No,” Stefano agrees, “but if it does not open the box, that would be a rather large coincidence, and I suspect there are no coincidences here.”

Sebastian is pretty sure Stefano has a point, though his head is spinning at the possibility- or even probability- that a piece of shrapnel that became embedded in Stefano’s body years ago is actually a key that will open the one box Diego indicated on.

“I don’t get it, but I’m sure you’re right,” he says. “Do you want to finish up what you’re doing before we go and check?”

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “I will just be another minute.”

Sebastian doesn’t know the first thing about developing film- by hand or any other way, so he leaves Stefano to it and turns his attention back to Diego, who is now on his back again and snoring.

It’s so surreal to see him like this. He looks the way he did in the prime of life, before age and disease took everything from him- and from Sebastian. He wishes he could remember Diego this way more often, but the memories of those last few months are hard to shake- waking up in the middle of the night to wet, irregular breathing, wondering if his friend was dying, wondering if it would be kinder if he did die, wishing he would die on his own so Sebastian wouldn’t have to make that decision.

He has no regrets about Diego’s life, but he is less confident about his death, about the surgeries and the treatments, the pain medication that left his once-bright eyes vacant. There was a time when he started to dread coming home every day because he knew that he would have to see his companion, his partner, in this diminished state. The memory makes him shudder.

“Oh my,” Stefano says, quietly, but in a tone that grabs Sebastian’s attention.

“What?” Sebastian says, all too happy for any sort of distraction.

“Come and look at this,” Stefano says. “If you can get up, that is.”

Sebastian isn’t sure whether Stefano is referring to his injury or the fact that Diego is halfway across his lap, but he puts Joseph’s glasses away and does his best to ease out from under the dog to avoid disturbing him. Diego wakes up anyway of course, springing to his feet and immediately alert for whatever he and Sebastian are going to do next.

Sebastian’s leg protests when he puts weight on it again, but he ignores it, limping over to stand next to Stefano, who has hung five photographs on the wall in front of them. Three of them are fairly unremarkable views of the inside of the hospital, and Sebastian can make an educated guess that they are the ones Stefano took in order to switch the building around when they were trying to escape from the monster. The monster itself doesn’t appear in any of them, which seems noteworthy since Sebastian is pretty sure Stefano was intentionally targeting it in at least one of them.

He is about to comment on this when his eyes fall on the next photograph, and this one is remarkable indeed. It shows the inside of the apartment where they found the radio, though it takes Sebastian a moment to recognize it because he is so focused on the figures in the frame.

It’s Andre and Stefano, just as youthful as they were in Stefano’s memories. Stefano appears to be unconscious, or at least he is limp in Andre’s arms. Andre is walking backward, carrying or dragging Stefano, who he is holding around the chest, and the shape their bodies form, the way they must be moving is strangely familiar.

It’s only then that he remembers what Stefano was photographing at the time.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “So those monsters from before were…”

Stefano nods. “It would seem so. It does explain why something about them was familiar to me...nostalgic almost.”

“I just...I know the town tailors things to our experiences, but that’s really something else.”

“You have not looked at the last picture yet, have you?” Stefano says, and there is a dark undertone to his voice that makes Sebastian’s eyes immediately go to the last photo- the one Stefano took of the dead police officer in the alley. Only now it’s not just any police officer.

It’s Joseph’s body slumped against the wall, Joseph’s head lolling to one side as blood and brain matter drip out of the gunshot wound, Joseph’s limp hand resting on a pistol.

The world around him is fading away, and Joseph’s voice is in his ears.

_ “Sebastian, you ever have the urge to just jump…when you’re on a high place, or the subway rolls by? Imagine if you had that urge for a minute straight...then two minutes.” _

_ “You fought it off three times now Joseph. You’re learning to stop it.” _

_ “You’re not listening. I’m not worried about stopping it, Seb. I’m worried about not wanting to stop it.” _

A hand grasps his shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he is forced back to reality.

“Sebastian?”

“Stefano,” he gasps out, turning to face the other man, reaching out to grab his shoulders as well, to anchor himself here in this world. The room is tilting perilously for a few seconds, but as he holds Stefano, as he focuses on Stefano’s worried face, things settle down.

“What the hell is this?” he asks, releasing Stefano once he is confident his legs will support him. “Why is it doing this to us?”

“I do not mean to pry,” Stefano begins, “and of course I can see why that picture would be upsetting to you regardless, but is there any special significance to that image?”

“Yes,” Sebastian replies sharply. “Yes, there is. It’s like it knew exactly what to show me to get the biggest reaction. It’s like it’s inside my brain learning my worst memories and my deepest fears and then generating them right here in front of me. It’s-”

“Slow down, Sebastian,” Stefano says. His voice is calm, which infuriates Sebastian at first, because Stefano should be just as upset as he is. Surely Stefano has seen things just as bad as the things he has seen. He is about to tell Stefano that he will not slow down, but Stefano raises an eyebrow, and the simple gesture- the same one Joseph used to do when he was getting carried away by his emotions- grounds him, makes him take a step back and re-evaluate the situation.

He takes a deep breath and nods.

“Why is this image specifically so meaningful to you?”

Sebastian takes a moment to collect his thoughts before he answers, but they still come out in a sort of jumbled stream.

“Joseph struggled with suicidal thoughts. Or at least, he did in STEM. Maybe if he brought them into STEM that means he had them in real life too- I don’t know- but one of the last times I saw him in STEM he was still fighting those urges, and I guess part of me is afraid that he gave in to them.”

Stefano is silent, and after a few seconds Sebastian adds, “I was helping him, or we were helping each other hang on to reality, and then I just left him in STEM alone.”

“It does not sound as though you had a choice,” Stefano says.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies, guilt twisting his insides, “but STEM was malleable, like the world here. Sometimes I think I got out because I was fighting so hard to get out, and I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d fought a little harder to get back to him.”

“I am not sure we will ever know that.”

Not knowing is the worst part as far as Sebastian is concerned. His heart feels heavy in his chest, and even Stefano’s hand on his shoulder brings him little comfort. Diego whines and nudges his hand.

“I guess we should go check out that box now,” Sebastian says, though he’s having a hard time mustering any enthusiasm. “Unless there’s something else you need to do here.”

“No,” Stefano replies. “There is nothing else to develop, and I have reloaded the camera, so if we come across another opportunity, I am ready.”

“Alright,” Sebastian says, limping to the door. His leg isn’t hurting badly anymore. It’s more of a dull throbbing, but it’s there in the background slowly sapping his strength the same way his memories of Joseph are sapping his will to continue their search. He doesn’t know what they will find in the next room, but he doubts it will bring him any satisfaction.

As soon as he opens the door into the hall, Diego alerts. Nose in the air, he darts right back to the evidence room door, pressing his face into the door seam, then turning to look at Sebastian in a clear plea to be let into the room.

“Okay, okay,” Sebastian says, spirits slightly lifted by the sight of Diego’s familiar search behavior. He knows he’s projecting some emotions onto the dog, but he can’t help but think Diego seems a little annoyed that he didn’t get any recognition for the work he did the last time they were in this room. “We’ll do better this time,” Sebastian assures him.

He opens the door and Diego runs inside, eager for another chance to make a find. He rears up to check box seventy-eight again, though Sebastian is pretty sure he’s memorized its location, then drops into his down indication, staring at Sebastian intently as though willing him to make the box open. Of course, it’s Stefano who holds the key.

Sebastian looks at Stefano. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“I am not sure that I do,” Stefano replies. “You said before that he found human remains there?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, “but that can mean a lot of things. Anything organic that’s become detached from the rest of the body will start to decompose. It could be blood or hair or…”

Stefano doesn’t look particularly thrilled by any of the options Sebastian is offering, and based on how things have been going in Silent Hill so far, Sebastian can’t really blame him. The box could contain any of the items he listed or many other things that are much worse.

Diego lets out an exaggerated sigh from the floor, which reminds Sebastian that they’re supposed to be opening the box.

“I guess it could also be something pretty gross,” he acknowledges, giving Stefano an apologetic look. “Do you want me to open it?”

“No,” Stefano sighs. “I will do it.”

With no further hesitation, he steps up to the wall of boxes and fits the key into number seventy-eight. Sebastian holds his breath, but the key turns, and Stefano slides the box out from the wall to reveal its contents.

Sebastian can’t see what’s inside the box at first, but he does see the color drain from Stefano’s face. He quickly steps forward, both to look into the drawer and because he’s afraid Stefano might be going to faint.

Fortunately, Stefano keeps his feet, and Sebastian directs his attention to the open box. The round, white objects he sees in the bottom don’t strike him as very remarkable at first, but as he looks longer, details start to take shape- tiny blood vessels all along the outer surface, then the edge of a circular marking on one side, and he realizes all at once what he’s looking at- a pair of human eyes.

His first thought is that Diego’s detection skills are as sharp as ever. His second is that this town has a sick sense of humor.


	26. Metastatic

The world slows down as Stefano stares into the bottom of the evidence drawer the same way it slowed down when he was looking at the corpse in the apartment. The man’s face- the wet, empty sockets, the blood streaked cheeks, the agonized expression- is burned into his memory. Perhaps these are the eyes from that very corpse, though it hardly matters now.

His own eye socket is throbbing in sympathy, and his right hand rises reflexively to cover it as his left reaches out to steady himself against the wall of evidence lockers. There is a distant rumble in his ears, the sound of artillery, the voices of men shouting. He knows it’s not real, knows it’s only a memory. He wants to jerk himself out of this, to turn away from the sight in front of him, but his eye is locked onto it with an intensity that his other instincts can’t override.

Sebastian is moving toward him. Sebastian is saying something, but he can’t hear him over the sounds of the battle playing out in his head. He sways on the spot, the pain in his head threatening to overwhelm him as it bores deep into his skull like a white-hot knife.

Then Sebastian’s face is filling his field of vision, and the pain and the noise stop as suddenly as they began. He is no longer paralyzed, but fatigue hits him hard, sucks the air out of his lungs and the strength out of his legs. He slumps forward against Sebastian, face buried in his shoulder.

Sebastian’s arms are around him, or perhaps they were already around him. Stefano doesn’t know, but he is grateful for the support.

He has always felt a little embarrassed by the part of himself that responds so strongly to a simple embrace. He has been able to take care of himself from a very young age- not just his basic needs but his emotions as well, and these lapses in control are troubling. At the moment though, he can’t focus on anything besides being in Sebastian’s arms.

“It’s alright,” Sebastian murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Stefano says into Sebastian’s shirtfront. Sebastian does have him, in more ways than he even realizes.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says. “I guess we should have predicted it would be something like that, but I’m still sorry you had to see it.”

Stefano is about to say that he is just fine and in fact quite capable of taking care of himself when Diego interrupts him with a loud, protracted whine that ends up sounding more like a yodel.

Stefano laughs. “I think you had better tell your dog he did a good job.” He raises his head and takes a step back from Sebastian. “Go ahead. I will be alright.”

Sebastian regards him cautiously for a moment as if to make sure he isn’t going to collapse, but Stefano gives an impatient wave of his hand. Now that the memories have passed, he feels quite a bit more like himself, and if anything, he is mildly annoyed at having displayed such a strong reaction in front of Sebastian again, particularly after Sebastian was just commenting on how well he keeps his emotions in check.

Sebastian turns back to Diego and crouches down on the floor, praising the dog in a voice that is so high-pitched and silly that he sounds a bit like Diego did just a minute ago. Apparently it’s effective though, because Diego is bouncing around the room, rubbing up against Sebastian and puffing his chest out like he knows he just solved a major problem for them.

And he almost certainly has. Stefano thinks back to the mannequin in the morgue, the one that is missing its eyes and its heart. At the time, he thought it was more of an atmospheric touch, another one of the town’s attempts to get inside their heads, but now it seems that its purpose is much more straightforward than that. Clearly they are to return the eyes to their sockets, which leaves him wondering only where they are going to find a human heart. Of course, if there is one to be found, Diego seems to be more than capable of finding it.

Diego is still prancing around, head and tail held high, as Sebastian straightens up again. The look on his face is triumphant, though he does rein it in slightly when he meets Stefano’s eye.

“It’s just so good to see him working again,” Sebastian explains. “That’s really when he was the happiest.” His eyes drift back to the dog. “He basically did it right up until the last day of his life,” he says wistfully. “Even when he could barely walk, he still wanted to search.”

Stefano nods. “He must have had a very strong heart.”

“He did,” Sebastian says. “I just wish mine had been half as strong.”

“I think you are judging yourself too harshly again,” Stefano observes. “You give your heart up so willingly, even after everything you have endured. That is a kind of strength.”

Sebastian’s cheeks flush pink. “I think that might be more stupidity than strength,” he says, “but thank you.”

Stefano makes a mental note to compliment Sebastian more often, because his embarrassment is quite endearing, but he turns his attention back to the task at hand. “Do you remember the mannequin in the other room?”

“Yes,” Sebastian says. Then after a pause, “Oh! Right! These have got to be for that, right?” He gestures to the evidence drawer.

“I would expect so,” Stefano says. “No coincidences here, after all.”

Sebastian peers back into the drawer, his lip curling in disgust. “I’m not really sure I want to touch them.” He glances up at the table by the door, and Stefano follows his gaze to see a box of latex gloves there. He’s not sure whether putting them on will make much of a difference in terms of how revolting it is going to be to handle a human eye, but Sebastian at least seems relieved to see them there.

Sebastian puts the gloves on, then gingerly reaches into the drawer, withdrawing his closed hand. Stefano doesn’t look too closely as he’s seen more than enough already. He moves to open the door to the room for Sebastian, whose face suggests that he is already regretting picking up this particular piece of evidence. Diego follows them out into the hall and then into the morgue once Stefano opens that door as well.

This room is cooler than the hallway. A shiver runs up Stefano’s spine as soon as he steps over the threshold, and a clammy, uncomfortable feeling settles onto his skin. There is of course a practical purpose for the temperature of the room, but that does nothing to soothe his nerves. This is a wasteland- a dead place- and Stefano has had quite enough of corpses for one lifetime.

Even though Stefano can feel death pressing in all around him, Diego’s body language in this room is relaxed, which makes Stefano wonder whether most of this isn’t going on inside his own head.

Sebastian makes no comment on Diego’s lack of response, although it’s possible that he is distracted. He seems all too eager to get rid of the eyes, and of course, Stefano can’t blame him. He goes directly to the unzipped body bag with the mannequin inside and sets the eyes into the sockets, his face contorting into a grimace as he positions them.

“Well, at least that’s done,” he says, stepping back and removing his gloves. “Now, where the hell are we going to find a heart?”

“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Stefano says. “Can Diego help us with that?”

“Definitely,” Sebastian says, “assuming there’s one here, I mean. He’ll find any kind of human tissue that’s decomposing.”

Stefano doesn’t relish the thought of looking for more decomposing human tissue, but it seems the town is going to require them to do so, and at least they have the means to follow through on it.

“I think we will need to go back out into the other hallway,” Stefano suggests. “There are no rooms left to explore in this part of the building.”

“Yeah, though I wish we didn’t,” Sebastian says. “Things may be really fucked up over here, but at least we can’t hear the clock anymore.”

Stefano has to agree, though it’s likely things are going to be ‘really fucked up’, as Sebastian puts it, no matter where they are in Silent Hill. Unfortunately neither one of them can think of anything else to do in this hallway or any way to delay returning to the other part of the building.

They leave the morgue and approach the double doors.

“Hold on,” Sebastian says as Stefano grasps the handle. He bends over and wraps an arm around Diego’s chest. “Are you ready?” he asks the dog.

Diego lets out a bark that is much too high-pitched for such a large dog and tries to throw himself forward, but Sebastian keeps him in place. Sebastian looks up and nods to Stefano, and Stefano opens the door.

“Seek!” Sebastian says, letting go of Diego, who runs in place for a moment, unable to get traction on the floor in his burst of enthusiasm, before he manages to dig his nails in and take off like a racehorse leaving the starting gate. He’s out of their sight almost immediately, but Stefano can hear him sprinting down the hall.

He turns to Sebastian. “Is he always like that?”

“Pretty much,” Sebastian says. “He loves his job.”

It’s clear that Diego does love his job, and as they move down the hallway, walking as fast as Sebastian can with his injury in hopes of staying somewhere near the dog, Stefano observes that Diego working on command is very different from Diego showing off or whatever he was doing before. He actually seems to have a search pattern of his own. Once he runs the hallway down to the corner, he returns to Sebastian and then works his way back down the hall, checking the open rooms on the right side one at a time.

“Did you train him to do that?” Stefano asks.

“Sort of,” Sebastian says. “He figured a lot of it out himself, but we used the same basic pattern every time we searched a building. We’ll still need to check the closed doors though. I’m not sure how much air is getting out of those rooms.”

It does make Stefano a little nervous to think that with the way Diego is racing around and panting loudly, they may not be able to hear approaching danger, and he pauses to check his radio, making sure the sound is turned up so they’ll at least have some kind of warning if anything is nearby.

He looks up to see that Diego is now checking each room on the left side of the hallway on his way back to them. He gallops into a room about fifty feet ahead of them, then skids to a stop. Stefano can’t see what he’s doing in there, but this seems pretty significant to him, so he gives Sebastian a questioning look.

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that’s probably something,” he says. “Let’s go see.”

Stefano follows Sebastian into the room in question, eager to see what Diego has found this time, but he almost crashes into Sebastian’s back when Sebastian stops only a step inside the door.

“What-?” he starts to ask, but at the same time, he steps to the side so that he can see around Sebastian, and he immediately gets the answer to his question.

Diego is lying down again, tail wagging and ears pricked, looking up expectantly at Sebastian, but this time there is something in between his front paws- a doll, in fact the same doll that Sebastian took out of a box back in the storage room.

Sebastian drops to one knee, grunting in pain as this position surely aggravates his injury. Diego dips his head to touch the doll with his nose, then looks up at Sebastian again, clearly anticipating praise. Unfortunately, Sebastian doesn’t seem to be up to giving any at the moment.

“I…” Sebastian begins, “...I don’t understand…”

Stefano isn’t sure whether this is a lack of understanding or an unwillingness to accept the obvious implications of Diego’s behavior, but it’s clear Sebastian isn’t going to take the initiative to find out.

Stefano steps forward and reaches for the doll, intending to inspect it to see if there is perhaps something inside it or some other explanation for Diego’s interest in the object.

“Don’t.” Sebastian’s voice is sharp, determined, and it brings Stefano up short. He turns to look at Sebastian. With his shoulders slumped and his eyes cast down to the floor, he looks absolutely crestfallen.

“Sebastian,” Stefano begins gently, “I think-”

“No,” Sebastian says, slowly shaking his head as if in a daze. “I just...I can’t…”

Stefano takes a step back toward Sebastian and crouches down, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder and sighing deeply.

“You do not have to listen to me,” he says, giving Sebastian’s shoulder a squeeze, “but listen to your dog. He is trying to tell you something.” Stefano feels a little foolish for pointing out something that should be rather obvious, but Sebastian doesn’t seem to be in a particularly receptive state at the moment.

Sebastian raises a hand to cover his mouth, and Stefano is afraid he is going to cry again, but suddenly something else has his attention entirely.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

He can hear the ticking of the clock again. It’s already louder than it should be. Either there was no early warning this time or they were so focused on this new development that they missed it, but whatever entity the ticking sound heralds is already dangerously close.

“Sebastian.” There is a note of fear in Stefano’s voice, but Sebastian is oblivious.

“Please,” Sebastian says quietly. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

Stefano isn’t sure exactly what Sebastian means, but he knows they need to move. Something is coming, and they don’t want to be out in the open when it gets here. Hiding was an effective strategy last time, so Stefano tugs on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Sebastian,” he insists. “It’s the clock again. We need to-”

His words are cut off by the burst of static from their radios, and that seems to finally get through to Sebastian.

“Shit,” Sebastian mutters, pushing himself to his feet.

Stefano is already scoping out the room, which contains a couple of floor-to-ceiling storage shelves holding boxes and various other items. “Over here,” he says, gesturing to the shelves. It’s far too risky to go back into the hall right now.

The area behind the shelves is a decent hiding place, but when he gets to the other side, he finds an even better one- an open supply closet. It’s small, but there isn’t very much in it, and it should hold both of them.

Stefano turns to point this out to Sebastian, but finds that the other man is no longer with him. He sticks his head out from behind the shelf.

“Sebastian,” he hisses urgently.

“I know, I know,” Sebastian says. “Come on, Diego.”

Diego is still looking avidly up at Sebastian.

“Yes,” Sebastian says, beckoning to the dog. “Yes, good boy, now come on!”

Diego springs to his feet and prepares to go into his happy routine, but Sebastian scoops him up in a move that surprises both Stefano and, apparently, Diego, who looks confused for a moment before he twists around to start licking Sebastian’s face.

The radio static is blaring now, and Stefano points to the closet, then follows Sebastian and Diego into it. The three of them fall into a sort of disorganized heap, Sebastian emits a grunt of pain, and Stefano pulls the door closed behind them.

What follows is a scramble by Sebastian and Stefano to right themselves and turn down their radios, which is somewhat impeded by Diego climbing all over both of them, seemingly overjoyed that they are now on the floor with him.

“Stop it, Diego,” Sebastian says in a stern whisper, but that only makes Diego thrash around more, and his tail catches Stefano in the face a couple of times before Sebastian grabs the dog and pulls him against his body, which at least keeps him from stepping on them any further.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

Stefano holds his breath as the ticking noise gets louder. He’s pressed up against Sebastian from hip to shoulder, so close that he can’t tell which one of them is trembling- or perhaps it’s both of them. The warmth of Sebastian’s body against his is some comfort, but his heart is hammering so loudly inside his chest that he is afraid whatever is stalking them is going to hear it.

Of course, it may not matter at all how silent he is, because Diego seems to find it impossible to sit quietly in the dark with them. Sebastian has him mostly immobilized, but every so often his tail thumps against the wall or he lets out his breath in a huff that is surely making more noise than anything Stefano is doing.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

The ticking noise is even louder now. It feels like it’s boring its way into Stefano’s brain, so close that the source must be right outside the door.

And then it stops.

Stefano is holding his breath, and Sebastian and even Diego are utterly silent for a few anxious seconds as they wait in the dark.

Whatever is outside the door draws in a long, wet, shuddering breath. It makes Stefano’s skin crawl. He’s never heard anything quite like it before, but his first thought is that this is what it must sound like to breathe with lungs full of water.

Instantly, Sebastian’s body goes rigid against his, and on the second breath, Stefano can actually feel him recoil away from the door. He doesn’t want to imagine what kind of horrible thing can make this sound, and Sebastian’s visceral reaction to it makes it even more terrifying.

On the third breath, Stefano shivers involuntarily, and Diego emits a low growl. It seems that now even he realizes something is wrong here.

“Shhhh,” Sebastian hisses, though it’s about as effective as Sebastian’s other attempts to quiet Diego, which is to say not effective at all.

Just at that moment, the wet breathing stops.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

The sound of the clock starts up again, and Stefano jumps at how loud and sharp it is. The noise does seem to be receding though, and after a few seconds, Diego stops growling and seems to be listening just as hard as Sebastian and Stefano. They sit in relative silence as the ticking gets quieter and quieter.

Once the clock is very faint and the radio static has gone silent, Stefano turns to Sebastian even though he can’t see him in the dark. He wants to ask what the hell just happened, but there is one more pressing matter on his mind.

“Your dog is terrible at hiding.”

“That’s not his fault,” Sebastian says, sounding rather offended. He then apparently releases Diego, because the dog spins around and starts to lick Stefano’s face. Stefano is more kindly disposed toward Diego than any other dog he has met, both because he is impressed with Diego’s abilities and because Diego is obviously very important to Sebastian, but this is a bit much.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Stefano scolds him, holding him at arm’s length. Diego seems fairly impervious to being reprimanded though. He just keeps trying to wiggle his way closer to Stefano.

“Are you going to do something about this?” Stefano appeals to Sebastian.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian says. “It’s kind of entertaining.” He pauses. “If we ever get out of here, are you going to let me have a dog?”

“Perhaps you should ask me that when I’m not being mauled,” Stefano shoots back, though two aspects of Sebastian’s question stand out to him. The first is that Sebastian seems to imagine that if they get out of here they will be in some sort of domestic situation, and Stefano finds that makes him feel surprisingly warm inside. The second is that Sebastian is asking about having ‘a dog’ not keeping this dog, which shows an acceptance of reality that Stefano wasn’t sure Sebastian had up until this point. Maybe there is hope for him after all.

Stefano is still contemplating what all of this means when Sebastian opens the door to the closet. Diego bounds out, running around the shelves toward the door of the room as Stefano manages to struggle to his feet and offers a hand to Sebastian.

“We are going to need to check on that wound soon,” he observes. “I don’t think I bandaged it sufficiently for you to be getting up and down off the ground so much.”

“I’m fine,” Sebastian says dismissively as he gets his feet under him and steps out of the closet. He flashes a smile at Stefano. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

That smile makes Stefano feel even warmer, though that feeling is lost very quickly when Sebastian steps around the shelves ahead of him.

“What the hell?” Sebastian mutters.

“What?” Stefano asks, moving to stand next to Sebastian.

Diego is standing in the middle of the room, slowly wagging his tail and staring up at them, but the doll is nowhere to be seen.

Sebastian sighs heavily. “I fucking hate this town.”


	27. Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a little rough toward the end. It's not entirely accurate to say there's a character death, but it is something like that. I don't want to spoil here, but I'm placing a note at the end that describes the scene a little bit in case you need more information to know if you want to read it or not.

Sebastian turns to Stefano. “This has got to be a joke, right?” He gestures at the now empty space on the floor in front of Diego.

“It does seem rather cruel,” Stefano observes. “I suspect we were very close to solving that particular puzzle and then…” He shakes his head.

“And then it just pulled the rug out from under us,” Sebastian finishes. “But I guess that’s what it’s been doing this entire time. The second I feel like I’m starting to understand what’s going on here, the rules change and then we’re back to square one.”

“Well we are certainly back to square one in our search,” Stefano says. “Hopefully Diego does not mind assisting us again.”

“He won’t mind,” Sebastian says with a smile. If there’s one thing Diego loves, it’s searching. Sebastian is actually a little surprised he hasn’t taken off yet to try to find the doll again.

The ticking of the clock is faint, but still present, and it makes Sebastian a little uneasy. “Do you think it’s safe to go out yet?” he asks Stefano.

Stefano seems to consider this for a moment. “I am not sure the sound of the clock ever entirely went away when we were in this hall, so I suppose it is as safe as it is likely to be. We will just have to listen carefully.”

“Got it,” Sebastian says. “Will you help me out if I... you know, zone out again or whatever that was?”

Stefano smiles encouragingly. “Of course,” he says, “but I do want to talk to you about that.”

There is a knot forming in Sebastian’s stomach at even the mention of this topic, but after everything he and Stefano have been through, he certainly owes him some explanations.

“Sure,” he says. “Just let me start Diego again, and you can ask me whatever you want.”

Sebastian calls Diego, and the dog bounds over, already yipping in excitement for whatever is coming next. When Sebastian directs him to seek, he takes off again, out of the room and down the hallway. Sebastian gives a nod to Stefano and they fall into step, heading down the hall after him.

“We have seen that doll twice now,” Stefano observes.

“It was Lily’s,” Sebastian replies. “I was surprised to see it at first, but I guess it makes sense that it’s one of the things the town seems fixated on.”

“When was the last time you saw the doll before this?” Stefano asks.

Sebastian casts back in his mind, but he doesn’t have to think hard. It’s a pretty strong memory.

“The last time I saw Lily,” he says. He doesn’t make a conscious decision to stop, but his feet stop moving on their own. “The morning of the fire, before I went to work.”

He can see her now, standing at the top of the stairs, doll in hand, begging him to stay home and play with her. He’d told her they’d have plenty of time to play when he got back from work. Back then, it seemed like they had all the time in the world.

“And the doll was destroyed in the fire?” Stefano asks, jarring him out of his memory.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, beginning to walk down the hall again. “At least, that one was- the one we keep finding. Myra made another one later.” He takes a deep breath, because it’s hard to tell this part of the story without making Myra sound crazy. “She was...she was taking it really hard, and I think she really believed Lily was going to come home somehow.”

He looks over to Stefano to gauge his reaction, but Stefano’s expression conveys only sympathy, so he presses on.

“It was really hard for Myra after the fire,” he says. “It was hard for both of us, but especially for her. The house we lived in all together had burned down, but she wanted to create a room for Lily in our new house and fill it with all of the things she had in her old room, and I just...I didn’t think that was a good idea.”

He glances at Stefano again, because this was a huge point of contention between him and Myra, and part of him expects to get some sort of emotionally violent response from even approaching this topic. Stefano merely nods, and Sebastian continues.

“Myra was having such a hard time leaving our old house and Lily’s old room behind, but for me it was better that we had to move, I think. I couldn’t imagine living in the same place where Lily died.” He shudders. “And I couldn’t stand to see the things that reminded me of her every day.”

They’ve reached a corner, and if his mental map is correct they are now heading back toward the front of the police station. Diego is out ahead of them, racing from one room to another. Sebastian stops and turns to face Stefano.

“I guess it also bothered me because I felt like Myra was having a hard time accepting what happened to Lily, and leaving her room exactly the same felt like another way to pretend nothing had happened.”

“I understand what you mean,” Stefano says, “though I am not sure that ‘out of sight, out of mind’ is the best approach either.”

“That’s basically what Myra said,” Sebastian says with a sigh of frustration. “She felt like I was trying to forget Lily, which was ridiculous, because even if I was trying to, there’s no way I ever could. You can’t forget your child.”

Stefano nods, though he looks like he has more to say.

“But I did what I had to do,” Sebastian continues. “I moved on. I tried to pull together what was left of my life, but…” He shrugs. “Here we are. I guess I wasn’t that successful.”

“You do have an attachment to those objects though- like Joseph’s glasses,” Stefano says. “I can see that they affect you.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees. “I can look at a picture of Lily or Joseph and feel sad, but for some reason seeing something that actually belonged to them or holding something they actually held...it just gets me.” He shakes his head. “You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?”

Stefano laughs. “Of course not,” he says. “I think there is very little you could do at this point to make me think that.”

“Well, that’s some comfort at least,” Sebastian says, smiling faintly. It’s more than some comfort. The fact that Stefano can stand here and listen to his deepest, darkest thoughts and still accept him, still want to be with him, fills him with a strange feeling, like seeing a distant light in a dark cave. He isn’t there yet, but for the first time in a long time, he has hope.

For a moment, it strikes him as very funny that he’s stuck in this creepy town that is torturing him with his own memories and doing its best to kill him, and he’s feeling better than he’s felt in years. It makes no sense, but he’ll be damned if it isn’t true. His smile widens.

“What is making you smile like that?” Stefano asks. He looks like he’s fighting back a smile of his own.

“It’s, uh, hard to explain,” Sebastian says, “but thanks for sticking with me.”

“I will be more than happy to stick with you a little longer if it means I can see that smile again,” Stefano teases.

Sebastian’s face flushes hot as he looks down at the floor. It’s been a long time since anyone has openly flirted with him, and even under normal circumstances he’d have a hard time reacting to that, and now he is totally lost for words.

“By the way,” Stefano says, much to Sebastian’s relief, “where is Diego?”

Sebastian turns to look down the hall. He can’t see Diego, and the only sound is the faint ticking of the clock, which means Diego must have stopped moving.

“Diego?” he calls.

He hears the dog’s nails clicking on the floor before he sees Diego pop his head out a doorway on the right hand side of the hall. He takes a few steps out into the hallway, but it’s enough for Sebastian to detect a tiny change in his gait. He makes eye contact with Sebastian, then immediately turns and trots back into the room, and there it is again. He’s favoring his right hind leg slightly. It’s a small difference, but one Sebastian has seen before.

This is going to hurt.

“Alright,” Sebastian says. “Let’s see what we’ve got this time.”

His own voice sounds flat in his ears, and he can feel the deep, empty hole opening up in his chest again, but there’s no time to dwell on it. They have to press on. And there is clearly something in this room that Diego wants them to see, because before they can even reach the doorway he comes trotting back out, limp even more pronounced this time, though it doesn’t seem to have dampened his enthusiasm at all.

“Is he injured?” Stefano asks.

“No,” Sebastian replies quickly. He knows exactly why Diego is limping now, but he can’t stop to talk about it, can’t stop to think about it. He is even more aware of his own limp as he follows Diego into the room.

There is red emergency lighting here, but Sebastian still pans his flashlight around for better visibility. This room is mostly filled with chairs, and there is a large whiteboard and a podium at the front- clearly a briefing room. For a moment, it takes his mind off of Diego, and Sebastian remembers sitting in those chairs with Myra and then with Joseph, listening to the case briefings and passing little notes back and forth. Of course, in later years, they were the ones doing the briefings, which wasn’t nearly as much fun, but there are still some fond memories here.

Diego whines, drawing Sebastian’s attention to one of the chairs near the back of the room. He noses something on the seat of the chair, then shifts into a down position, albeit a bit more slowly and stiffly than usual.

As Sebastian moves closer, he can see what’s on the seat of the chair, and his breath catches in his throat, because it’s something he’d recognize anywhere- Joseph’s notebook, the one he used to carry with him on every case, the one where he recorded all of his observations. And once he steps in closer and directs the beam of his flashlight at the notebook, he can see why Diego has indicated on it. The cover and pages are stained with fresh blood.

He moves in closer and reaches down to pick up the notebook, realizing belatedly that Diego isn’t demanding praise. In fact, Diego isn’t even in the room with him anymore. He looks up at the doorway where Stefano is standing.

“Is Diego out there?” he asks.

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “He came back out into the hallway like he was on a mission. What did you find?”

Sebastian holds up the notebook. “It belonged to Joseph,” he explains.

The notebook is critical. He’s sure of that, but it’s also very strange that Diego took off again without waiting for recognition of his first find.

“Diego?” he calls, but the dog doesn’t come back. “Can you see where he is?” he asks Stefano. “It’s really weird that he went out like that.”

“Yes, of course,” Stefano says, stepping out into the hallway and calling for Diego.

Sebastian turns his attention to the notebook. Just looking at it sets off a little prickle of anxiety in his chest, but he should be used to this by now, should be used to the town trying to get inside his head. Unfortunately, even though he’s aware of what’s happening, it’s still working.

He flips open the notebook and flinches at the writing on the first page. At first glance, it’s nothing like Joseph’s handwriting. The letters are large and aggressively scratched into the paper, but the shape of them, the way the letters are formed does remind Sebastian of Joseph’s writing.

_ TOO LATE _

The words hit him like a slap in the face. He turns the page.

_ NOT ENOUGH _

The hole in his chest is opening up again, because these words, as simple as they are, cut deep. He turns one more page.

_ COME AND FIND ME, SEB _

He shudders. There were very few people who called him ‘Seb’, but Joseph was one of them, and the way this is written, the hostile scratches that form the letters, conveys an urgency that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He raises his head from the notebook to call for Stefano, but no sooner does he open his mouth than the police siren blares and the door to the hallway slams shut.

“No, god damn it!” shouts Sebastian, though of course he can’t be heard over the siren. He dashes to the door, ignoring the pain that blooms in his leg at the quick movement, and grabs the handle, yanking it as hard as he can, rattling the door in its frame, but it still doesn’t open.

“Shit!” Sebastian swears, turning on his heel to check the room for other exits. He finds one, but not the way he expected. The door actually takes shape before his eyes, forms itself out of a blank section of wall. It’s surreal to watch, and even though Sebastian knows the town has been changing its architecture the whole time they’ve been here, he isn’t sure he can trust a door that just materialized out of nothing.

The siren is still wailing, and Sebastian tries the door to the hallway one last time, cursing himself under his breath for being so stupid, for making so many mistakes. He should never have let Stefano get separated from him like that. He should have paid more attention. He shouldn’t have let himself get so absorbed in Joseph’s notebook. Of course it’s too late for all of that now. He looks down at the notebook still clutched in his hand.

_ Too late. Not enough. _

It’s the story of his life.

The red emergency lights blink off, and Sebastian clutches his flashlight tightly, hoping Stefano can find some way to see in the dark and feeling sick that he let them get split up again. It’s some small comfort that maybe Stefano and Diego are together, but no matter how Sebastian looks at it, he has let Stefano down.

The siren gradually fades away, and it is eerily, completely silent.

“Stefano!” Sebastian calls out.

He waits, holding his breath, but there is no answer.

“Stefano!” he tries again, but still he hears nothing.

He fumbles for his radio, brings it to his mouth and presses the button to transmit. “Stefano, can you hear me?”

The voice that comes back over the radio is a familiar one, but not Stefano’s.

“He can’t hear you, Seb, but I can.”

“Joseph?” Sebastian says. It’s undoubtedly Joseph’s voice, but somehow colder, more calculating.

“That’s right. I knew you wouldn’t forget your old partner.”

“How…?” Sebastian begins, but he can’t even form a question, so he lets go of the radio button.

“I wish I knew,” Joseph replies. “Things don’t make sense here. Time, space- those things don’t seem to exist anymore.”

Sebastian hesitates. His first impulse is to assume that Joseph is talking about STEM, but he could just as well be referring to Silent Hill. And come to think of it, how does he know this is really Joseph he’s talking to and not another one of the town’s illusions.

“How do I know you’re real?” he asks.

“Would it matter if I wasn’t?” Joseph replies. “This is all about you, after all. We’re here because of you.”

“What?” Sebastian says, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Come and find me, Seb, and you’ll see,” Joseph says. “We need to talk about this face to face.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Sebastian asks.

“I don’t know,” Joseph says, “but you’d better hurry. We’re running out of time.”

The radio goes silent, and, as if on cue, the ticking of the clock starts up again. It sounds far away right now, but it’s enough to convince Sebastian that he doesn’t want to dawdle in this room. He gives one more fruitless tug on the door to the hallway and crosses the room to the new door.

This one has a locking mechanism with a large valve handle right in the middle of it, like a watertight door on a ship or a bank vault. It’s completely out of place in this setting, but by far not the strangest thing Silent Hill has come up with. Sebastian takes hold of the handle and twists with all his strength. The valve creaks and groans, but it turns in his hands, and once he’s turned it far enough, he shoves the heavy door open and steps through.

His feet land on a metal platform that sways slightly under his weight, and when he investigates with his flashlight he finds he’s standing on a catwalk. He can’t see the floor of the room or the walls, so as far as he can tell the structure is simply suspended in a dark, endless void. He steps forward, gritting his teeth as the platform squeaks and bounces under his weight, but it holds, and he gingerly continues onward.

The platform slopes down little by little. It twists and turns, and sometimes Sebastian thinks he catches a glimpse of a figure somewhere out in the darkness, a sort of pale, glimmering shape that disappears as soon as he tries to look at it. He casts around with his flashlight, but he can never see any more of the room he is in than the catwalk he is standing on and the surrounding darkness.

He is beginning to wonder if he is just going to keep walking forever like this, or if this is some sort of maze and he’s made a wrong turn, when he comes to another door, much like the last one. He turns the valve handle and opens the door to reveal a familiar room, one that makes the knot of tension in his stomach tighten.

A glass tube with a human brain in it rises up in the center of the room, attached to a number of computer terminals and other machines. It’s surrounded by tubs, the tubs Sebastian knows hold the bodies of the people who have gone into STEM, but the room is dark, and there are no lights illuminated on any of the machines. An odor of decay reaches Sebastian’s nostrils.

“Joseph?” he calls out.

“I’m here, Seb.” Joseph’s voice comes out of the darkness. “Come over here where I can see you.”

Even though it is unmistakably the voice of his old partner, Sebastian’s feet carry him forward slowly, the dread growing in his heart with each step he takes. He doesn’t want to see whatever is down here. He’s sure of that now, but it’s too late to go back.

_ Too late. Not enough. _

As he draws nearer to the tubs, he can see some of them are occupied. He recognizes the corpses of Connelly and Jimenez, even though a lot of the soft tissue on their bodies has decomposed. It’s a gruesome sight, and he jerks his flashlight away, scanning around to look for Joseph, circling the room until he comes to the final tub.

His stomach lurches. His old partner is not in much better shape than Connelly and Jimenez, though he is sitting somewhat more upright and peering at Sebastian through dark eyes sunk deep into their sockets. His clothing is still as neat as ever, but he looks emaciated, and his skin is clinging to his bones, except in the places where it has rotted away.

“Sebastian?” Joseph says, squinting at him. “Damn it. I still can’t-”

“Hold on,” Sebastian says quickly, reaching into his pocket to pull out Joseph’s glasses. “Here, put these on.”

He stretches out his arm to hand the glasses to Joseph, hoping Joseph won’t notice his reluctance to get too close. Sebastian is still determined to help his old partner, but Joseph’s appearance is off-putting to say the least.

“That’s better,” Joseph says, after situating the glasses on his face. “It’s good to see you again.”

Sebastian can’t truthfully say the same about Joseph, at least in his current condition, so he tries to change the subject. “Have you been here this whole time? In STEM, I mean?”

“I guess so,” Joseph replies thoughtfully. “It’s hard to know where I am most of the time.” He shivers. “This place is like a nightmare- so many thoughts, so many minds all jumbled up. Sometimes I can’t tell which thoughts are mine and which are other people’s.”

“That sounds horrible,” Sebastian says, remembering his own time in STEM and the torments that came with having his mind linked to so many others. “Joseph, I have to get you out of there. I don’t know how. I...I don’t even know where to start looking, but I’m going to get you out.”

A sad smile spreads across Joseph’s face. “You need to get me out of the system, but not the way you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

Joseph nods at the computer terminal next to him. “The red button,” he says, “terminates my life support. I need you to press it.”

“What? No!” Sebastian almost shouts, eyes darting back and forth between Joseph and the computer terminal in horror. “No, I’m going to get you out the same way I got out. We’re going to be partners again.”

Joseph sighs deeply. “That’s not possible.”

“It has to be!” Sebastian insists. “I won’t leave you behind!”

“You never left me behind, Seb,” Joseph says. “It wasn’t your choice. It was out of your hands.”

“No!” Sebastian says again, but he can already hear the strength going out of his voice, can already feel the tears burning his eyes. It doesn’t matter if Joseph is right or wrong about this; it hurts just as much either way. “I can’t lose you too!”

Joseph fixes him with a serious look. “Not everything is about what you want. I’m asking you, as my partner and my friend, please just end this. I can’t do it anymore.” He raises a hand to his head, face contorting into an expression of pain. “I can feel them trying to get into my brain even now. I’m losing more and more of myself every minute, but they’ll never let me go.”

He lowers his hand, and his eyes meet Sebastian’s again. “Please. You’re the only one who can help me now.”

“I can’t,” Sebastian gasps. His chest is tight, his throat is closing up, and tears are streaming down his face now. “I can’t. I’m not strong enough.”

“Please,” Joseph says again. “I need you now, Seb. I need my partner. I need you to be strong enough to do this, and you need to be strong enough to get out of here.”

Sebastian feels like his chest is going to split in two, but he has no strength left to argue. Joseph is dying right in front of him- he can see that- and Joseph is asking for his help, and if this is the last thing he can do for Joseph, he is sure as hell going to do it.

He raises his arm to his face, wiping his tears on his sleeve and sniffing hard, because if he’s going to do this, he wants to do it the right way, wants Joseph to remember the man he was when they were partners, not the man he’s become. Slowly he nods.

“Okay,” he says when his throat has relaxed enough that he can speak again. “Okay, I’ll do it.” His breathing is harsh and irregular, but at least he’s holding back the tears that are threatening to spill over again.

“Thank you,” Joseph says, leaning back to rest against the edge of the tub, a look of relief spreading across his features. “I knew I could trust you with this.”

Sebastian takes a deep breath and steps over to the computer terminal. His finger hovers over the red button as he looks at Joseph one more time. It hurts to see him looking like this, and it is small consolation to know that he can end it, that he has to end it.

“Please,” Joseph says softly. “Just make it stop.”

The tears are flowing again, but he fights to keep his voice steady as he murmurs, “Goodbye, Joseph.”

Joseph’s face is serene. “Goodbye, Seb.”

He presses the button, his flashlight goes out, and the room is plunged into total darkness, but what really gets his adrenaline going is the sound he hears next.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last thousand words or so of this chapter, Sebastian encounters a dying/decomposing version of Joseph who asks for his help in releasing him from STEM and Mobius' control by terminating his life support. After an emotional conversation, Sebastian agrees and helps him "die". I put that in quotation marks because of course it's all taking place in Silent Hill, and I wrote it as more of a cathartic experience for Seb than a real-life event (but obviously take it however you want; I'm not going to tell anyone how to interpret the story- just explaining why I didn't use a more unequivocal character death tag).


	28. Embrittled

The siren makes Stefano jump, threatens to drag him back down into the pit of dark memories- of explosions and shouting voices and fear- but this time he remembers Sebastian, Sebastian’s voice, Sebastian’s hands, but more importantly the fact that he needs to avoid being separated from Sebastian at all costs.

He turns to the door that will take him back to Sebastian just in time to see it slam shut. Doors are opening and closing all down the hall, or at least it sounds like they are. As the hallway itself isn’t lit, Stefano can see very little except the glow of emergency lighting from some of the rooms.

“Sebastian!” he calls out, fear rising up in his chest like a cold hand clawing at his insides. He can’t even hear himself over the blaring of the siren, so he isn’t sure how Sebastian is supposed to be able to hear him, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. “Sebastian!”

He runs to the door, fumbling in the dark, because now even the red emergency lighting that was peeking out from under the door has gone dark. His fingers find the handle, and he takes a firm grip, knowing in his heart that it isn’t going to open. Sure enough, he pulls and pulls and rattles the door in its frame, but he can’t get through.

He swears under his breath, because he and Sebastian both knew better than to split up, and somehow they let themselves get into two separate areas with a door in between them. It’s hard to even blame the town for taking advantage of their mistake, and he hopes it doesn’t turn out to be a costly one.

The siren finally dies away, and Stefano is left in the pitch-black void of the hall, suddenly acutely aware of the pounding of his own heart and the harshness of his own breathing.

“Sebastian?” he calls out.

There is no response, but Stefano remembers his radio, taking it out and pressing the button to talk.

“Sebastian? Sebastian, are you there?”

The radio remains silent, and Stefano wonders for a moment if it has a battery that has run down before deciding it’s more likely to be the interference of Silent Hill. He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or worse.

This does leave him in quite a bad situation though. He has no means of generating light except his camera flash, which he has used before for this purpose but which is not well suited to it. The brief, intense flashes of light do allow him to generate a mental picture of the space he is in, but of course they last less than a second, and they are so bright they are counterproductive to any benefit he might gain from allowing his eye to adjust to the darkness.

The safest thing to do in theory would be to sit down here in the dark and wait for Sebastian to find his way back to him, but that’s a terrifying prospect, especially when something other than Sebastian might find him first. In addition, the previous times they’ve been separated seem to have played into some kind of purpose or design of the town, and Stefano highly doubts he’s going to accomplish anything of that nature by sitting here in the dark.

Of course, the only other option is to try to make his way back to Sebastian in the dark, which would have been a tall order at any point, but especially now. If the siren does relate to changes in the layout of the building, as Stefano suspects, then he has no idea where to even begin looking for a way into the room where Sebastian is.

In the time it’s taken him to work through all of this in his mind, his heart has begun to slow down, and the cold hand of fear has loosened its grip on him somewhat. He wouldn’t say he is calm, but he has a much better handle on the situation than he did before, and even if the situation isn’t good, Stefano finds some comfort in having analyzed it.

Resolute in his decision to move forward, he places one hand on the wall beside him and starts to walk, trailing his fingers along the wall so that at least he knows he is moving in a straight line. His other hand is stretched out ahead of him to keep him from walking headlong into some obstacle in the dark, but those first few steps are tentative, halting. Images of the deep chasms the town can create flash through his mind, and he has to steel his nerves to continue forward.

The first door he encounters is locked, which is no great surprise, though it does make Stefano wonder what he would even do if it was open. He has no idea what he is looking for or how he is going to find it if-

A sound breaks into his consciousness, and he holds his breath to make sure he didn’t imagine it, but it’s unmistakable- the sound of nails clicking on the floor, of deep, panting breaths- and it’s getting closer.

His heart stops. Some great beast is running at him. He’s sure of it. One hand stays planted on the wall so he can keep his bearings, and the other goes to his knife, but it’s too late. Before he can even draw it, the beast is right in front of him, still breathing loudly as it skids to a stop, then presses itself up against his legs, wiggling in a way that even Stefano in his current state couldn’t mistake for aggression.

“Diego?”

The dog seems to be even more excited by the sound of his name, and he whines, bumping Stefano’s elbow with his head.

Stefano laughs out loud with relief, because in the chaos of the siren, he had completely forgotten about Sebastian’s dog, and after Sebastian himself, Diego is the best companion he could imagine in Silent Hill.

“Good boy,” he says, releasing his knife and bending down to find Diego in the dark.

Diego must be able to see better than he can, because he shoves his head right under Stefano’s hand in his excitement. Stefano scratches his neck and chest, the way he’s seen Sebastian do. He’s surprised to see that Diego is almost as enthusiastic to greet him as Sebastian, but maybe he’s just glad to see anyone since the siren went off.

“I am happy to see you as well,” he says, then realizes he’s talking to a dog.

Diego doesn’t seem to mind though. His tail thumps against the wall as Stefano pets him, and the rhythmic motion of stroking something that is warm and alive and reacting to him is oddly comforting to Stefano as well. He’s never had an animal companion himself, though he was on relatively friendly terms with Aria’s cat.

He kneels down on the floor, and Diego immediately licks him on the face.

“Alright, maybe not that happy,” he says, pressing his hand against Diego’s chest to fend him off. For a moment, he isn’t sure what’s happening as Diego twists in his hands, but then there is a thump and he realizes Diego is on his back on the floor, presumably asking for a belly rub. Stefano obliges, though he isn’t sure he’s doing a very good job as his experience in this field is limited.

“I bet you wish Sebastian was here,” he says.

Diego’s tail swishes against the floor.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he says. “I suppose we will have to go and find him.”

At the word ‘find’, Diego flips over and tries to get up so fast that he can’t get traction on the floor and ends up thrashing around in place. Once he does get his feet under him, he lets out a high-pitched bark of excitement, and by the sound of his nails on the floor, Stefano imagines he is prancing around in front of him. Stefano gets to his feet, already forming an idea.

He’s not sure what ‘find’ means to Diego, since he’s sure it’s not the word Sebastian used to start him looking for human remains, but apparently it means something to him, because his disposition has changed from ‘happy to see a friend’ to ‘ready to work’. Stefano also doesn’t know whether Diego finds live people and if so, how to tell him to do that, but he’s not sure it will matter. In the end, he expects Diego will gravitate to Sebastian if he can smell him, but he’s probably going to find him much faster if he’s in his working mode.

“Diego, come here,” Stefano says, reaching out in the dark to put his hands on the dog.

Diego eagerly spins around so that he’s standing beside Stefano, and Stefano leans down to hold him around the chest the way he’s seen Sebastian do. Diego seems to know what they’re doing now, because he is bouncing up and down in place and whining again.

“Are you ready?” Stefano asks, doing his best impression of Sebastian. He’s not sure he’s fooling anybody, but apparently Diego is willing to work with him, because he barks loudly and lunges forward.

“Seek!” Stefano says, letting him go.

Just like the last time, Diego takes off, skidding on the polished floor as he starts his search. Stefano considers briefly that it might have been slightly more useful in this situation if Diego was trained as a seeing-eye dog, but he is grateful for the company, and the items Diego has found in the past have proved to be very useful. He does wish the dog would stay closer to him, but based on what he’s seen of Diego’s searching behavior so far, that seems unlikely. He just hopes he’ll have the presence of mind to recognize when Diego has found something.

To that end, he listens carefully, even as he continues his slow progress down the hallway, because if he has learned one thing while watching Diego and Sebastian, it’s that anytime Diego stops moving it probably means he has found something significant. Even in the first few minutes, he starts to notice differences in what he hears. The steady clicking of Diego’s nails on the floor and the sound of him panting are what he hears most of the time, but every once in a while, Diego will stop panting and sniff harder. Stefano can also occasionally hear him jump up or down off of something, though fortunately he hasn’t yet encountered any obstacles himself.

Stefano is listening so closely that he notices the moment he stops hearing Diego moving around. Unfortunately, he has no idea where the dog is, except that he’s somewhere up ahead of him.

“Diego?” he calls out, hoping to prompt some response.

The clicking of toenails sounds ahead and to his left, and he assumes Diego must be approaching.

“I can’t see you,” he says, feeling a little silly for talking to a dog.

Diego’s nose brushes his hand before the dog turns and starts to move away from him again. Stefano does his best to follow the sound, but that means he has to leave the wall, and he only manages to keep up for a few steps before Diego is too far away for him to follow accurately. He waits a moment, holding his breath and listening, but then Diego comes in close again, bumping Stefano’s hand with his nose.

“I see what you are doing,” he says. The more he talks to Diego, the more normal it seems. Diego is a very intuitive dog after all.

They repeat the cycle a few more times, with Diego moving back and forth between Stefano and whatever it is he wants to show him, and Stefano doing his best to make a little progress each time, one hand out in front of him to check for obstacles and the other by his side so Diego can check in with him each time.

Thankfully the dog seems to have chosen a relatively obstacle free path, though Stefano does encounter a door frame in all of his groping around, which tells him they are moving from the hall into one of the rooms. He’s so turned around at this point that he isn’t sure his mental map of this place is going to be any good, but he’s still doing his best to keep track of which direction he’s going.

Finally, Diego bumps his hand one more time, but doesn’t walk away. Stefano feels around in midair for him and finds nothing, which perplexes him for a moment until he remembers that Diego is probably lying down.

Sure enough, when he crouches down he finds Diego is lying on the ground right in front of him, and he sets to work trying to figure out just what it is Diego has found. The floor in between Diego’s front paws is smooth and free of any objects, and Stefano expands his search, fumbling around in the dark, touching a wall, some piece of furniture, the edge of a file cabinet, while Diego whines impatiently.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I can’t see a thing in here.”

Diego whines again and it sounds like he is scratching at the ground, but again, when Stefano checks he can’t feel anything down there except the break between floor tiles.

“What did you find?” he wonders aloud, and Diego swishes his tail on the ground in response.

Thoroughly confused now, Stefano reaches into his pocket for his camera. This is going to ruin both of their night vision, at least temporarily, but it’s the only way he can think of to get enough light into this room to see what Diego is trying to show him. He backs up a few steps, bumping into the file cabinet again in the process, and points his camera at the dog, holding it at chest level so that he can look over it to see what might be illuminated by the flash. He takes a deep breath, because he does have a suspicion it might be something unpleasant, and presses the button.

There is a burst of intense light, and Stefano catches a glimpse of Diego looking mildly alarmed, but even more importantly he realizes what Diego is trying to tell him, or at least, he realizes something about the room he didn’t notice before. What he was feeling on the ground a few minutes ago isn’t a break between floor tiles; it’s a separate panel in the floor, the kind that might lead to a bomb shelter or some other underground area.

He isn’t sure why Diego is targeting this, but it’s definitely something he wouldn’t have noticed without his help, particularly in the dark, so Stefano crouches down and begins to praise Diego, who blunders into him in his excitement and almost knocks him over. Stefano isn’t sure if he’s doing this properly since Sebastian has handled it the other times, but Diego seems happy enough, wiggling around in front of him and trying to sneak in a few face-licks while Stefano is petting him.

Once Diego has settled down a little bit, Stefano moves forward, feeling around on the ground and finding the handle to the trapdoor, which Diego must have been covering with his body before. Getting it open is a bit of a struggle, because Diego insists on standing directly on it and trying to paw at Stefano’s hand until Stefano shoos him away.

Even without Diego standing on it, the door is extremely heavy, and it takes all of Stefano’s strength to lift it to the point where he can hook his fingers under the edge and pull it up even higher. As soon as he does, there is light shining through the gap between the door and the floor, which is all the encouragement Stefano needs to keep working on it.

It’s actually a rather large trapdoor with a set of metal stairs under it, and as soon as he manages to get it locked into the open position, Diego is clamoring down them. He pauses at the bottom, turning to look over his shoulder at Stefano and wagging his tail.

“Right, I am coming,” Stefano says as he descends the stairs.

His relief at being back in a lighted area is short-lived. The temperature seems to drop as he goes down, and when he reaches the bottom, the hallway in front of him looks like it belongs in a much older building than the rest of the police station. The floor and walls are made of stone, but those stones are worn smooth and crumbling away at the edges. The light comes from torches set into the wall at intervals, and the whole place has the feel of some sort of dungeon.

What really gets his attention though, is Diego. He hadn’t noticed in the dark, but the dog looks visibly different than he did the last time Stefano saw him before the siren went off. His coat is dull, and he seems thinner, more angular, the grey hair around his muzzle more apparent than before. When he starts down the hallway, the limp Stefano noticed earlier is even more obvious, and he’s barely touching his right rear leg to the ground when he walks.

“Diego,” Stefano calls, and the dog comes limping back to him, eyes alert and tail wagging in spite of everything.

Even though Sebastian seemed unsurprised by Diego’s condition, Stefano still thinks it would be irresponsible not to at least check to see if there is some explanation for Diego’s sudden lameness. He runs his hands up and down Diego’s leg, feeling for some sort of wound or other injury, but he can’t find anything unusual, and Diego doesn’t have any observable reaction.

“Alright,” he says with a sigh. “Let’s keep going, but nothing else had better happen to you before we get back to Sebastian.”

Diego may not be a real dog, but Stefano still feels some sense of responsibility for him in Sebastian’s absence, and he hopes Sebastian isn’t going to be upset with him about the dog’s declining condition. For the moment, though, there is nothing to do but continue on.

The hallway stretches out as far as Stefano’s eye can see, which is a little disconcerting, but by far not the strangest thing he’s seen in Silent Hill. Even though Diego is limping badly now, his head and tail are up and he stays out ahead of Stefano, as though he wants to hurry him along the corridor. After a few minutes of walking, Stefano thinks he understands why.

There is a familiar, but vaguely unpleasant odor reaching his nose, one he has smelled more times in the last few days of his life than the several years before that. It’s the smell of decomposition, and based on Diego’s reaction, he’s willing to bet it’s human.

He shudders. It’s not affecting him as strongly as it did when he opened the refrigerator back when he first met Sebastian or even as much as it did when they found the eyes in the evidence drawer, but it still takes him back to his military career, to a time they had moved to a new encampment and stumbled upon a mass grave.

Stefano has never understood war. It seems a pointless exercise in violence to him, and even the potential for artistic expression that came out of it couldn’t stop him from feeling as though he was part of some nefarious machine. And never was it more obvious than that day. His countrymen hadn’t killed those people, but the war had, and he still remembers the foul smell, the gnarled, decaying hands. Those hands still reach for him in his nightmares, and if he isn’t careful, they are going to reach for him now.

Diego circles back toward him and brushes against his hand again.

“I’m alright,” Stefano says, smiling because right now Diego is reminding him quite a bit of Sebastian himself. “Just...memories.”

He isn’t sure if Diego is staying close because he can sense Stefano’s unrest or if it’s because his leg makes it too painful to move fast, but he is grateful. Just having Diego nearby helps to distract him from his darker thoughts.

He has only taken two more steps when his radio crackles to life.

“Stefano!” Sebastian’s voice is hoarse, urgent whisper, but it is so good to hear it that Stefano’s heart leaps. He snatches his radio out of his pocket.

“Sebastian?” he calls back.

“Shhhhh,” Sebastian hisses. “Listen.” Apparently he is holding the transmit button down, because the low level static from his end continues, and then Stefano can hear it.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

The radio goes silent, and Stefano presses the button to reply.

“Where are you?” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian mutters. “I...I don’t know, but I need to get out of here.”

“Hide,” Stefano urges. “It has worked before.”

“I am hiding,” Sebastian replies, “but, I just...I don’t know what’s going on. I wish you were here.” His voice is weak, faltering, and he sounds almost as though he’s been crying.

Diego has caught on to the fact that it’s Sebastian’s voice coming over the radio and is now crowding Stefano, sniffing the radio eagerly as if to see whether Sebastian is somehow hiding in it.

“Tell me how to get to you,” Stefano whispers, frustrated that Sebastian seems to be in danger and he doesn’t have enough information to help him.

“I think I’m underground,” Sebastian replies, and this time while he is speaking, Stefano can hear the ticking noise over the radio.

“That’s good,” Stefano says quickly. “I think I am as well. Shhh, Diego.”

Diego is standing next to Stefano and is now panting loudly enough to interfere with the radio traffic.

“Diego’s with you?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “I-”

Sebastian cuts him off. “Stop- it’s getting really close now.”

The urgency in his voice and the ticking sound, which is even louder than before, spike Stefano’s adrenaline and he wants more than anything to respond, to say something, to do something, but for all he knows, he and Sebastian are miles apart. It’s a horrible, cold pit inside him, this powerless feeling, the same one he had when he heard the explosion go off, when he saw the light fading from Andre’s eyes.

He looks at Diego.

“Let’s go,” he says. “Sebastian needs us.”

He sets off down the passageway at a jog, Diego keeping page beside him even with his awkward gait. He doesn’t know where they are going or what they will find there, but Sebastian is in trouble, and there is no question in Stefano’s mind that this is the time for action. He only hopes they won’t be too late.


	29. The Price

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for animal death in this chapter; please read at your own risk if you're sensitive to that.

Sebastian crouches in the dark, terrified to even breathe. He has turned the volume on his radio down so low that he definitely won’t hear if Stefano is trying to talk to him again, but he can’t risk the static alerting the monster to his presence. At least, he assumes it’s a monster. He doesn’t actually know, and he doesn’t want to find out.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

His wounded leg protests under the strain of the new position, but he ignores it. He has taken shelter behind the bathtub where Joseph’s body lies, because after the lights went out it was the only thing he could lay hands on that might provide some sort of cover. He has no idea what he’s hiding from, or how well it can see in the dark, but whatever it is, he’s almost certain it’s in the room with him now. He’s not going to risk changing hiding places at this point and alerting it with any noise or the beam of his flashlight.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

It’s getting closer, and his heart is beating so fast it feels like it might burst out of his chest. Stefano and Diego are out there somewhere. They’re trying to help him, and if it’s within their power, he knows they’ll come through, but he is also getting the sense that this is something he is supposed to face alone, which is terrifying, because alone is the last thing he wants to be right now.

_ Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. _

The sound has to be coming from right next to him. Surely it’s no more than six or eight feet away. He grips his revolver in a shaking hand, though he’s not sure how much good it will do. The direct combat approach hasn’t solved many of their problems in Silent Hill. 

The ticking noise stops suddenly, and Sebastian isn’t sure whether to be relieved or apprehensive. He gets his answer when the breathing starts.

It is heavy and wet, and he can actually feel the puffs of air hitting the left side of his body. He is utterly frozen, afraid to move a muscle, afraid to take a breath himself, because it is so close it has to know he’s here. He has his gun in one hand, and his flashlight in the other, and he waits- for it to leave, for it to attack, he doesn’t know, but now his whole body is shaking in anticipation of its next move.

Except that it apparently has no next move. The sound of the breathing remains next to Sebastian, consistently loud, though inconsistent in the way it stops and starts and is sometimes interrupted by deep, hacking coughs or gasps for air. It’s horrible to listen to, and Sebastian isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to stand it. Even death by some monster would be better, and Sebastian takes a deep breath and calls out into the darkness.

“What do you want from me?”

The voice that comes back out of the darkness is low, guttural.

“Your heart.”

Sebastian jumps at the sound of it. He had asked the question on a desperate impulse and wasn’t actually expecting to get an answer, but now it seems like he needs to say something back.

“You can’t have it,” he says, voice faltering as he tries to control his own breathing.

Whatever is in the dark next to him draws in a harsh, watery breath.

“I already do,” it growls back at him.

Sebastian is shaking even harder now. It should be at least somewhat reassuring that this monster is able to speak to him and seems to possess something like a human intellect, but instead it is even more terrifying than before. It implies a level of cognition, of intent that he doesn’t want to attribute to the monsters of Silent Hill. He isn’t afraid to kill monsters, but he doesn’t know what to do with something like this.

He doesn’t know what it means by its last statement either. He can feel his own heart battering the inside of his ribcage at this very moment, so it’s not literally true, and he doesn’t understand how some faceless monster can lay claim to something that is undeniably his.

His hand goes to his flashlight.

“Don’t turn on the light.”

He freezes.

“Why not?”

“You won’t like what I’ve become.”

There isn’t much expression in it’s voice, but in the last utterance Sebastian detects a hint of something like regret. He shivers. The implication that this thing sitting next to him is somehow frightening or unsightly, coupled with the suggestion that he might have known what it was before this, is making his head spin and his heart race.

“What are you?” he asks, realizing too late that a more polite question for something that can talk would be ‘who are you?’. Of course, it did just reference ‘what’ it had become itself, so maybe it is the right question after all.

“A collection of blood and bone and tissue. A body without a mind,” it rumbles. Its voice is beginning to sound more and more distorted the longer it speaks, almost as though it’s coming out of a malfunctioning recording.

“You’re talking to me though,” Sebastian points out. Surely if this creature can speak, it has a mind of some sort.

“You’re talking to yourself,” it groans, voice heavily distorted now. “I haven’t been here in a long time.”

The last words send a chill up Sebastian’s spine. He doesn’t know what they mean, especially when this thing is clearly right next to him. He holds his breath, and presses the button on his flashlight. The light comes on, and Sebastian utters an involuntary shout and jerks away from it, crawling backwards on the floor to try to put some distance between himself and this...this thing.

He notices its skin first- pale, translucent, and slick with some kind of fluid. It would be too generous to say that it might be some kind of animal. It has four legs, a long neck, and a head that is vaguely horse-like or maybe dog-like. Its eyes are clouded over, and its jaw hangs slack.

Even as he watches, its distended chest cavity expands as it draws in a long, wet breath. He shudders to hear it, but stays frozen in place. If this is what he’s been talking to in the dark, clearly it already knows he’s here. With the way its eyes are obscured, he isn’t sure whether it can see or not, and he is terrified to move lest he cause it to attack.

The neck moves, twisting back and forth, and the head moves with it, turning from side to side so that each dead, milky eye is turned to him in sequence. The breathing continues, and now it moves its head in closer. It’s only a foot away from his face now, and still he stays rooted to the spot. Another breath rushes out of its mouth, the smell of decay heavy in the air.

Sebastian closes his eyes, unable to look at the horrifying thing anymore, but too afraid to move away from it. In the darkness behind his eyelids, the sound of the breathing, the smell of death jogs his memory, and a lump rises up in his throat as he remembers the end of Diego’s life, how sick he was, how his wet, labored breathing would wake Sebastian in the night.

And he remembers how Diego would approach him like this, seeking comfort, seeking affection that Sebastian couldn’t always bring himself to give. Having to watch Diego waste away was horrible, but it was even worse to be secretly disgusted, viscerally repulsed by his old friend.

Just like he did back then, he keeps his eyes closed and reaches out in front of him to take the creature’s face in his hands.

“Sebastian!”

His eyes fly open, and he turns reflexively toward the sound of the voice to see Stefano standing in a doorway across the room from him. There is light coming from behind him, but not much, and most of the room is still quite dark, but he can make out Diego shuffling across the floor toward him.

The way Diego moves now makes his heart sink and the bile rise up from his stomach. The dog’s movements are so labored, so obviously painful for him, that it hurts to watch, but he is still coming, wagging his tail as best he can, mouth open as he breathes the same way the creature does, but still up and moving and eager to see Sebastian.

“What the hell is that thing?” Stefano calls to him in a loud, harsh whisper, as though he’s afraid of disturbing the monster somehow.

Diego reaches him, and Sebastian lets go of the creature’s face so that he can wrap his arms around the dog.

“I don’t know,” he calls back to Stefano. “It’s not...hostile exactly, or at least it hasn’t been yet.”

Sebastian is a little distracted, because Diego is now lying down with his head and shoulders in Sebastian’s lap. Sebastian adjusts his position to try to make him more comfortable, a little surprised that Diego isn’t reacting to the monster at all. It’s almost as if he isn’t even aware of it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Stefano approaching cautiously, but most of his attention is focused on Diego, who turns to look up at him, letting his mouth hang open.

Sebastian’s heart stops. Diego’s tongue is white, as white as the skin of the creature waiting next to them in the dark, as white as it was the day he died.

“I’m sorry,” Stefano says, cautiously kneeling down on the floor beside him, his eye still fixed on the monster. “I don’t know what happened to him. I tried-”

“It’s alright,” Sebastian cuts him off. “I tried too. I tried so hard and so long that I lost sight of what I was doing.” His hands ruffle Diego’s fur. “And who I was doing it for.”

“Is he…?”

“Yeah.”

They sit in the dark for several seconds, with only the faint light from the doorway and the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight to orient them. The wet, heavy breathing fills his ears, and he can’t tell whether it’s Diego or the monster. They seem to be breathing at the same time now.

His heart aches, because he remembers the times like this, the times they would sit together, and Diego would bury his face in Sebastian as though he wanted to shut out the world, and Sebastian would wonder whether it was fair to keep trying, to keep struggling against the inevitable. Diego would never give up as long as Sebastian was willing to keep fighting.

He remembers the last day, how long the drive to the vet’s office felt, how he wishes it had somehow been even longer, how he almost turned around in the parking lot, almost convinced himself he could come back and do this another day, but he made himself do it because it wasn’t about him anymore. It was about Diego.

He’s still stroking Diego’s fur, and he doesn’t realize Stefano is doing it too until their hands brush each other. He looks up at Stefano, tears streaming down his face, because he knows what has to be done. He was too weak to do it before, and he is afraid he will be too weak to do it now.

To his surprise, Stefano begins to sing. Sebastian doesn’t understand the words and assumes they are in his native Italian, but the song is slow and soothing, obviously some kind of lullaby. It doesn’t take the pain out of this situation, but it does make him feel less alone, and when the song fades away, he has a new sense of resolve.

“Stefano,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I think I...I think we have to do something.”

Stefano’s voice is soft, almost hypnotic, and he continues to pet Diego as he replies. “You do not think it will happen on its own if we wait a bit?”

“No,” Sebastian says, blinking back tears. “No, I waited for it to happen on its own last time. I waited way too long, and I’m afraid I’ve already waited too long again.”

The lump in his throat is threatening to choke him, and his chest feels like a lead weight has taken up residence in the center of it. He is sure he is supposed to do something, but he isn’t sure what or how or if he can even bring himself to do it.

The monster inclines its head, and Sebastian jumps. As impossible as it seems, he had almost forgotten it was there.

It breathes another wet, heavy breath and turns its head to look at Stefano. Diego is still breathing in time with it, and that gives Sebastian an idea about what to do next.

“Stefano,” he says. “Take my gun.”

“What?” Stefano sounds mildly horrified. “No. I cannot do that. I have...become a bit attached to your dog as well.”

Sebastian smiles through his tears at that, because Diego could win over almost anyone, and it’s pleasantly nostalgic to realize that he’s worked his magic on Stefano as well.

“We have to,” he says. “I know what happens after this, and it’s not anything good. We have to end it now.”

Stefano nods, though Sebastian swears there is a tear in the corner of his eye as well as he reaches to take Sebastian’s gun from the holster. He stands up, and the creature swings its head to follow him.

Stefano freezes, the monster’s head only inches from his face. It is still, peaceful, but it’s an imposing sight. Stefano looks at Sebastian.

“Do you think we are supposed to…?” He gestures at the creature and then at the gun.

Sebastian nods. He has no more breath in his lungs to form words. His chest has locked up, and his insides have turned to ice. He slips one arm under Diego’s head, cradling him in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe, but Sebastian isn’t even sure he’s aware of what’s going on anymore. His eyes stare straight ahead, and each time his chest expands it looks like it takes an enormous amount of effort.

He keeps his eyes on Diego, but in the corner of his vision, he can see Stefano take a step back and place the barrel of the revolver against the monster’s head. It doesn’t resist. In fact, it leans into the gun, letting out a deep, wet sigh that almost sounds like relief.

The gunshot is muted somehow. Maybe it is actually that quiet, or maybe his brain just won’t let him process something so loud and so close by. What he hears is the hitch in Diego’s breathing. What he feels is Diego’s body limp in his arms. It’s not the first time, but it had damn well better be the last. He can’t live through something like this again.

Tears are streaming down his face now, and his chest feels as though it’s been torn open, all his organs exposed to the cold air of the room. Then the monster is gone, and Diego is gone, and he is left holding nothing, grasping at empty air for something to anchor him, something to keep him from slipping down into the dark, cold void inside of him.

He finds Stefano.

Stefano’s arms are around him, and Stefano is murmuring words of comfort in his ear, and Stefano’s hand is rubbing his back. And he cries.

He has cried many times, both in Silent Hill and before. At times he has cried until he had no tears left, but this time is different. This time he holds nothing back. He lets everything out, his tears, his thoughts, his fears. He tells Stefano all the ways he failed both of his partners- how he was inadequate next to Joseph, how he failed Diego when it counted, and how he will never be the kind of partner Stefano can rely on.

He is crying so hard he isn’t even sure Stefano can understand him half the time, but Stefano listens and encourages and doesn’t interrupt him. Stefano lets him get all of his thoughts out in one long, disorganized stream, and Stefano doesn’t mind that Sebastian’s tears are soaking his jacket, or that Sebastian’s nose is running, or that sometimes Sebastian can barely breath around his sobs.

And when Sebastian finally runs out of words, when all he can do is sob into Stefano’s jacket, Stefano begins to sing again, the same song as before. Sebastian may not understand the words, but the meaning still comes through, and after many long minutes, his breathing calms and his tears stop.

He lifts his head to look at Stefano, sure that he must be a complete mess after all of that.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffs.

“No need to apologize,” Stefano says with a vague smile, “though you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?” Sebastian asks, because he doesn’t even remember half of what he just said. He’s been rambling, speaking in a stream of consciousness, and if he was right about anything it’s a miracle.

Stefano reaches up to smooth his hair. “You cannot be a good partner if you have so much left unresolved in your other partnerships. You cannot dedicate yourself to a new relationship if you are constantly analyzing your past ones.”

Stefano’s tone is curious. He sounds quite serious, but not judgmental, like he is simply making an observation rather than trying to psychoanalyze, which is just fine with Sebastian, who’s been analyzed more times than he cares to remember. It’s strange how this time with Stefano in Silent Hill has done more for his peace of mind than years of therapy.

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Couldn’t you have just told me that back at the overlook and saved us all of this trouble?”

Then he is laughing, and Stefano is laughing, and they are embracing again, shaking with laughter. The sound echoes wildly in the room around them, and it seems so out of place for Silent Hill that it makes them laugh even more.

As they pull away from each other, the lights flicker and come back on, and Sebastian realizes the room around them has changed. It’s not the STEM room anymore. Now it looks like a shooting range- the kind that might be found at any police training center. The walls and floor are cement except for the backstop downrange, so he still has the impression they are underground, but the room looks positively ordinary compared to what it was before.

“This is not what I was expecting,” Stefano says, looking around the large room. “The scenery was quite different when I came down here.”

“It was for me too,” Sebastian says. “It looked like the STEM room- the room the whole experiment was run in, and I...I talked to…”

The lump is coming back into his throat at the thought of Joseph, because he really has lost two partners in the last hour. He fights it back, because he has just gotten himself under control, and he is sure they don’t have time for him to have another breakdown.

“To Joseph?” Stefano offers.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “I’m not sure I can talk about it right now, but I did talk to him, and he’s gone now.”

Stefano nods in sympathy and pats Sebastian on the back. “You are having a very difficult time.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say either one of us has it easy,” Sebastian replies. “But what I want to know is, when does it end?”

“I suppose when the town has extracted its pound of flesh from us,” Stefano says, “but I cannot say when that will be. We have already endured quite a lot, but is it enough?”

“And even if we ever get out, are we actually going to be free?” Sebastian adds. “Or will it keep reaching out for us the way it did before?” He shivers.

Stefano frowns. “I have been wondering the same thing, but it will not do us any good to dwell on that if we never manage to escape in the first place.”

“True,” Sebastian says. “I guess that means we need to get back to work.” He begins to struggle to his feet, but his leg screams in protest and he can’t suppress a groan. Stefano takes his arm to help steady him.

“Thanks,” he says. Then, looking over Stefano’s shoulder at the place where the monster was, he spots something on the ground. “What the hell is that?”

Even as the words leave his mouth, he has a pretty good idea what he’s looking at. It’s a lump of tissue, dark reddish-purple in color, and there is bright red blood steadily seeping out of it, forming a large puddle around it on the floor.

“Perhaps that is our pound of flesh,” Stefano says darkly. “Our sacrifice for the town. At least I hope it is. I do not think either one of us can give up much more of ourselves without ceasing to be entirely.”

“I’m fucking exhausted,” Sebastian agrees. He may not be as poetic as Stefano, but he knows the feeling he is describing. After the encounters with Diego and Joseph, Sebastian is utterly drained. His body aches, his mind hangs in tatters, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep pushing himself before he collapses.

“I suppose one of us has to pick it up,” Stefano says.

“I picked up the last gross thing,” Sebastian points out, and Stefano laughs.

“Very well,” he says. “Do you still have gloves by any chance?”

Sebastian retrieves them from his pocket, and Stefano swaps out his black leather gloves for latex ones and picks up the heart. Sebastian swears his own heart starts to beat faster as Stefano holds the organ carefully in both hands.

“I guess we know what to do with this,” Sebastian observes.

Stefano nods. “I may need you to light the way back. The lights went out when the siren went off, and it was rather difficult for me to get around.”

They start for the door, Sebastian leading the way since Stefano doesn’t have his hands free. The hallway outside the shooting gallery is similar to the one outside the kennels and holding cells- nondescript cement walls and floor and flickering fluorescent lights.

“How did you make it down here?” Sebastian asks.

“Diego helped me quite a bit,” Stefano replies. “He helped me get around in the dark, and he found the trapdoor that led down here.”

“Did he work for you?” Sebastian asks, genuinely curious. Diego never met a person he didn’t like, but he was particular about who could direct him to search.

“Yes,” Stefano says, “he seemed very eager to do it. Is that unusual?”

“Yeah, it is,” Sebastian replies. “He normally wouldn’t work for anyone but me. You guys must have really hit it off.”

“You could say that,” Stefano says. “We did work together very well considering how little I knew what I was doing.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” Sebastian says, opening the door to the stairwell for Stefano. “And I’m glad you guys had each other. I was worried about you.”

They start up the stairs before Stefano comments, “The building has changed again. When I came down, there was only the trapdoor and a flight of stairs that led to a very long hallway.”

“I guess that happens with the siren,” Sebastian says, because once the siren went off he also found himself in a space that was nothing like any police station- or any building- he’s ever seen. Their current surroundings look much more mundane.

“Hopefully we can get back to the morgue.”

“Right,” Sebastian says. He’s sure they’ll be able to somehow. Obviously the point of finding the heart was so they could return it to its place in the mannequin.

“Do you suppose it’s human?” Stefano asks, and Sebastian doesn’t have to ask what he’s talking about.

“I guess it has to be,” he says with a shudder, his own heart pounding in response, “but I don’t want to think about it too much right now.”

“Agreed,” Stefano says. “We have plenty of other things to think about.”

“You got that right,” Sebastian says, shaking his head as he opens the door for Stefano on the first floor. “Plenty to think about, but no answers.”

Stefano gives him an encouraging smile. “We may not have answers yet, but I think we are getting somewhere.”

Sebastian can only hope he’s right.


	30. Brothers in Arms

Stefano keeps a close eye on Sebastian as they make their way back to the morgue, both because he is the one with the flashlight, and because he still seems a bit affected by what happened downstairs. He has collected himself, but the beam of the flashlight shakes occasionally as his hand trembles, and his steps are shorter, less confident than they were before, even disregarding his leg injury.

To Stefano’s relief, the police station seems to have reformed itself into something resembling the building they entered initially. Of course, that building had dangers of its own, but he hadn’t realized how much comfort he takes in having some sense of the space he is in until Silent Hill began to warp the space around them so aggressively. Now, the darkened hallways are familiar, almost friendly, especially because he suspects they won’t be interrupted by the ticking of the clock again.

He hasn’t had the heart to ask Sebastian about the monster they encountered downstairs, though he gathers it had something to do with Diego’s illness. They certainly had an identical breathing pattern at the end, and there was obviously some link between them, but Stefano has a hard time imagining how something so horrifying could represent any part of Sebastian’s old friend. Of course, Sebastian seems to have a relatively complicated relationship with many of the important individuals in his past, and if he has come to terms with any part of that, Stefano suspects it is a good thing.

However, Stefano still finds something very sad about the way Sebastian seems to value himself only in so far as he is useful to others- how good of a father or partner or husband he was- instead of assigning himself some intrinsic value. Even though Stefano pointed out to him that being caught up in past relationships will prevent him from finding satisfaction in present ones, perhaps the real problem is that Sebastian sees himself only in terms of those relationships, but of course this is probably something best explored in another time and place when their immediate survival is not in question.

His mind is wandering a bit, but the halls are silent aside from their footsteps, no sound issues from the radios, and the layout of the police station is consistent with what it was when they came in, so it seems safe enough to let himself think about other things. Besides, it distracts him from the weight of the heart in his gloved hands. It is still warm and a good deal heavier than he thought it would be, and he is eager to reach a place where he can put it down.

He wonders for a moment if he has ever been like Sebastian, but he doesn’t think so. His own sense of self is quite strong, and even if he has had trouble coming to terms with some aspects of who he is, he has always felt like a complete person even when he is alone. He suspects it is not so for Sebastian, and sympathy wells up inside him when he imagines how Sebastian must have felt during his time alone.

“You alright?” Sebastian asks, seemingly out of nowhere. He stops and turns to look at Stefano.

“Yes,” Stefano replies, though his face must show his confusion about why Sebastian would choose to ask the question at this particular moment.

“You’ve been really quiet; that’s all,” Sebastian says.

“Just thinking.” It’s true even if it is a vast oversimplification of what is going on in his head.

Sebastian nods. “Well, that’s either a dangerous thing to do here or our ticket out, and I have no idea which one.” He turns to continue walking and Stefano follows.

“I suppose thoughts and feelings matter quite a lot here,” Stefano says. “I get the sense this town feeds off of them.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, “it’s making me have a lot of feelings- that’s for sure.”

Stefano smiles to himself. He almost points out that of course Sebastian is a man of more feelings than thoughts but realizes that would probably be taken as insulting. That’s not the way he means it at all, but Sebastian’s actions are very much driven by his heart with his brain catching up somewhere along the way if he’s lucky.

“Are you alright?” Stefano asks, because of course Sebastian’s feelings can be very taxing for him.

“I think so,” Sebastian replies. “I’m honestly a little numb right now...overwhelmed maybe. I can probably get a better read on it later.”

“That’s understandable,” Stefano says, as Sebastian opens one of the double doors leading to the morgue hallway. “You have been through quite a lot.”

“We both have,” Sebastian says, letting the door swing closed behind them, and the expression on his face- the worry and the exhaustion- hits Stefano so hard that he would embrace Sebastian if he wasn’t carrying such a disgusting, though important, item.

“I keep hoping it’s going to be over soon,” Sebastian continues, limping over to the heavy metal door that leads to the morgue, “but…”

He shrugs, and Stefano nods in agreement, sure they are thinking the same thing. There is no way of knowing when it will be over, if it will ever be enough to satisfy Silent Hill.

Sebastian opens the door, and Stefano walks through it. The morgue looks the same as the last time they left. The body bag is unzipped, and the mannequin’s unseeing eyes stare out from its plastic face. It’s chilling, though Stefano is a bit relieved it’s not an actual dead body. Sebastian lets the door close and approaches the table, then opens the chest cavity.

Stefano doesn’t have a great knowledge of internal human anatomy, but the space on the left side of the chest where the heart is supposed to be is pretty obvious, and he places the heart into it carefully. It feels like a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders when he can finally let go of it, strip off the latex gloves, and replace them with his usual ones.

Sebastian closes up the chest cavity, and they both take a step back, waiting with bated breath to see what will happen next. Almost immediately, the heart begins to beat. The sound seems to expand to fill the room, and Stefano can actually see the mannequin’s chest rising and falling with each contraction of the muscle. He chances a look at Sebastian, and he is sure the apprehension he sees on Sebastian’s face is mirrored on his.

Sebastian’s hand is pressed over his own heart, and his eyes are wide with alarm.

“Sebastian?” Stefano closes the distance between them to press his hand over Sebastian’s, and he can feel Sebastian’s heart pounding in time with the other one. The sounds builds and builds, hearts beating faster and faster. Stefano is sure his own heart rate is accelerating as well, though he is more concerned about Sebastian’s.

“Easy, Sebastian,” he says, unsure whether Sebastian has any control over this. “Take a deep breath.”

Sebastian doesn’t seem to be breathing at all and still looks utterly terrified. The beating continues until it reaches a crescendo and comes to an abrupt stop. Sebastian releases a long exhale, and Stefano can hear an answering one coming from behind him. It makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but he is rooted to the spot, too terrified to turn around.

He can feel that Sebastian’s heart is still beating, even though the other one has stopped. Sebastian’s hand slips out from under Stefano’s and falls to his side, as he looks up at the ceiling in apparent relief, but Stefano keeps his in place, monitoring Sebastian’s heart rate as it gradually slows down.

“What was that?” Stefano finally asks once Sebastian’s heart rate and breathing have returned to something resembling normal.

Sebastian shakes his head. “No idea, but it was fucking terrifying.”

Stefano nods in agreement. Sebastian doesn’t seem to be reacting to anything behind him, so he chances a look over his shoulder and finds that, much to his relief, the mannequin is not showing any more signs of reanimating. He turns his attention back to Sebastian

“You’re alright now,” he soothes, his hand still pressed over Sebastian’s heart.

Sebastian takes a deep breath and looks like he’s about to speak again, but he is interrupted by a loud metallic clunk that makes both of them jump and turn to face the wall of morgue drawers, one of which has popped open a few inches.

“Jesus christ,” Sebastian mutters, placing his hand over Stefano’s again. “I don’t think I can take much more of this.”

“Agreed,” Stefano says.

Sebastian recovers more quickly this time, and when he takes his hand off Stefano’s, Stefano allows his to drop as well. They are both looking at the morgue drawer now.

“I suppose we have to open that,” Stefano says, shooting a nervous glance at the mannequin, of which he is still distinctly suspicious.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. “I’ll get it if you’ll cover me.”

Stefano is about to ask how he is supposed to cover Sebastian when Sebastian is the one with the gun, but Sebastian is already moving toward the drawer. Stefano’s eye darts over to the door from time to time, though he is mostly watching the mannequin, which has the decency to remain entirely inanimate throughout.

He can hear the drawer slide open. Sebastian doesn’t seem alarmed by whatever is inside, which gives Stefano some hope that it’s not a dead body. He’s seen quite enough of those for one lifetime.

“It’s just a key card,” Sebastian says, picking up the card and showing it to Stefano. “Where would we use a key card?”

Stefano knows immediately. “In the front lobby,” he says. “We saw the terminal right when we came in, though I think it may not have been powered at the time.”

“Right,” Sebastian says, a smile forming on his face. “You never forget anything, do you?”

Stefano can feel the blush creeping up on his cheeks. “I would not say that, though my memory is rather good.”

“I’d say better than ‘rather good’,” Sebastian replies. “Now let’s get out of here before that thing comes to life or something.” He gestures at the mannequin.

Stefano wholeheartedly agrees, and they leave the room to start back toward the front lobby of the police station.

“Do you think the clock is still running?” Sebastian asks with a visible shudder.

“I have not heard it since we came back upstairs,” Stefano replies, “though I cannot say for certain if that means anything.”

He does feel a prickle of anxiety in his stomach about returning to the lobby, but that is clearly their next step, and it’s no use putting it off.

Stefano is content to let Sebastian and his light lead the way through the halls, and thankfully there are no more monsters or sirens or clock noises to interrupt their progress. The tension is palpable when Sebastian opens the door that leads back to the lobby, but he doesn’t seem alarmed by anything in the room, and when Stefano follows him in, he can see that everything is much the way it was when they left.

The front door to the station is still firmly closed, and the light is still coming from behind the administration desk, and the rest of the room is still draped in shadow. Stefano can’t help but look back at the clock as soon as he has taken a few steps into the room. It is still as large and imposing as ever, but it is quiet, unmoving, and it makes Stefano feel as if they are frozen in time. Come to think of it, maybe Silent Hill is frozen in time. It certainly seems that way.

The Lady Justice statue in front of the clock catches his eye as well, though he isn’t sure why, because it also looks the same way it did the first time they came in. It’s a strange thing to see here. Stefano supposes the concept makes sense for a police station, but he has to question the notion of justice in Silent Hill when the town seems to be so determined to torment him and Sebastian to the very limits of their sanity. Both of them have made mistakes in their lives- that has become clear over the course of the last few hours or days- but surely neither of them deserves this kind of punishment.

“Looks like there’s no power to the card terminal,” Sebastian says, drawing Stefano’s attention back to the door beside the administration desk.

Stefano frowns. He had been so hopeful that acquiring the key card was a major development in their escape from this place, but now it looks as though they may not be able to use it at all. He crosses the room to stand beside Sebastian and spots something else.

“There is an access panel here.”

He points to the wall beside the card terminal. There is a small panel there- the kind that might be used to house a breaker box. If it’s as simple as turning on a breaker, perhaps the key card will be of some use after all. He hooks his fingers under the edges of the panel and pries it open.

“What the hell…” Sebastian mutters as he shines his flashlight inside, and Stefano has to agree. The space inside the access panel is filled with wiring, but it’s all jumbled up. Multicolored lengths of wire are wrapped around each other with no discernable order, and all of them are disconnected from the circuits at the top of the panel.

“Don’t.” Stefano says, preemptively placing a hand on Sebastian’s arm before he can reach in there and electrocute himself.

“I wasn’t going to,” Sebastian says. He sounds a little defensive at first, but then he heaves a sigh. “But I guess I can see why you might think that I would.” He inclines his head toward Stefano with the faintest hint of a smile on his face.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Sebastian asks. “I’m no electrician, and unless it’s one of your hidden talents, I don’t think you are either.”

“No,” Stefano replies. “This is beyond the scope of my knowledge.”

“Joseph was good at stuff like this,” Sebastian says as a shadow passes over his face.

Stefano places a hand on his shoulder. “I am afraid Joseph cannot help us now,” he says, but then he has a thought. “Unless...do you still have his glasses?”

“No,” Sebastian replies. “I gave them back to him when we were talking downstairs, before…”

Sebastian’s voice trails off, and Stefano gives his shoulder a squeeze. They stand in silence for a moment before Sebastian draws his breath in sharply and his eyes go wide.

“Wait!” he says. “I found Joseph’s notebook. I don’t think I got to tell you before the siren went off, but I’ve still got it.”

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a simple black leather notebook. Stefano thinks it will be a miracle if there happens to be something in there that will help them, but of course here in Silent Hill everything seems to be connected in one way or another, so he watches in silence as Sebastian flips through the notebook.

“Yes,” he says with enthusiasm, showing a page to Stefano. “This has to be it, right? I knew he left me this for a reason!”

Stefano swallows hard, because he has some serious doubts that the real Joseph was ever involved in anything that happened here in Silent Hill. It’s a little concerning that Sebastian still seems to think that’s a possibility, but this probably isn’t the time or place to ask that question. Sebastian believes he talked to Joseph, and Sebastian believes Joseph is helping them, and right now that has to be enough.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he considers the notebook page under the beam of Sebastian’s flashlight. The diagram and notations there certainly could correspond to the panel in front of them, and it’s undoubtedly the best lead they have at the moment, though he is still a little concerned about what will happen if they’re wrong.

“I suppose so,” Stefano says, taking the notebook from Sebastian’s hands and rotating it to see if the diagram makes any more sense when viewed from a different angle.

It takes several minutes of discussing and deciphering- and several admonishments from Stefano that Sebastian should not try to hold more than one wire at a time- but they manage to create an arrangement in the panel that looks very much like what is pictured in the notebook. Stefano is holding his breath as Sebastian plugs in the last wire, and they both look to the card reader to see a green light come on next to the card slot.

“Yes!” cheers Sebastian, and Stefano finds himself swept up into an unexpected hug. It feels nice to be in Sebastian’s arms and to see Sebastian expressing such happiness when the last few hours must have been very taxing for him emotionally.

His excitement is short-lived though, and he releases Stefano to look at the notebook again, his brow furrowing.

“I am glad your old partner was able to help us,” Stefano says gently, hoping to keep Sebastian from slipping back into a dark state of mind.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says thoughtfully, “but I’m kind of starting to like my new partner too.”

Stefano feels the heat rising up on his cheeks as Sebastian looks up from the notebook to smile shyly at him. Being Sebastian’s partner suddenly feels more important than being his friend or even his lover. Clearly it’s a special category of people for Sebastian, and Stefano can’t come up with the right words to respond.

“Is there anything else in the notebook that might be useful to us?” he asks, hoping to redirect the conversation in a way that won’t have him blushing like a schoolboy.

Sebastian glances down to the notebook again and flips a few more pages. Apparently most of them are blank, because he doesn’t stop again until he reaches the last page of the book. His face twists into a smile again, but it’s a sad, strained one this time. He holds the notebook up for Stefano to see.

_ Thank you, Seb. _

Before Stefano even has time to react, Sebastian embraces him again. This time it’s less joyful and more desperate, but Stefano holds on with everything he has, because Sebastian needs his strength if they’re going to get out of here. Sebastian’s head is resting on his shoulder, and Stefano murmurs in his ear.

“It’s alright. You’ve done so well, and we only have a little farther to go.”

He hopes he’s telling the truth. For all either one of them knows, they’re going to be here forever, but he can’t contemplate that right now. They have to be close. They have to be almost free, because he is very close to the limit of what he can endure, and from the way Sebastian is clinging to him, he’s not in much better shape.

When Sebastian finally does release him and step back, he seems to have composed himself somewhat.

“I guess now we go through the door,” he says.

Stefano nods, because that seems to be the last place they haven’t been inside the police station, and after all the work they had to do to obtain the key card and activate the card reader, there had better be something pretty important behind that door.

Sebastian pulls the key card from his pocket, and Stefano watches as he swipes it in the card reader. The green light blinks, and there is click as the lock releases. Sebastian grabs the handle.

“Here goes nothing.”

As Sebastian pulls the door open, there is a great screeching and grinding of metal. At first, Stefano thinks it must just be the door itself, but he quickly realizes the sound is coming from behind him.

He whirls around, and his eye goes immediately to the Lady Justice statue, which is now bathed in a bright white spotlight. Stefano is transfixed, and he takes a step closer, then two. He can’t believe it, because this is a statue- an inanimate, immovable object- but something has changed.

The blindfold no longer obscures the statue’s face. It has been lifted somehow to expose the eyes underneath, which are staring out at Stefano with a cold resolve. In that moment, he has the distinct impression that he is the one being judged, and his heart leaps into his throat.

He turns on his heel, intending to draw Sebastian’s attention to the statue, but Sebastian is gone, and the door to the office area slams shut with such finality that Stefano is sure it’s the town’s doing and not Sebastian’s. He knows by now that Sebastian would not leave him alone voluntarily, but of course that doesn’t do him very much good right now.

It surprises him very little when the door won’t open. It surprises him even less when the siren begins to wail.


	31. Surrender

The door to the office area closes behind Sebastian with a click, and he turns abruptly to face it, because he had thought Stefano was right behind him. The other man is nowhere to be seen, and panic starts to coil in Sebastian’s chest, squeezing tightly. He reaches for the door, then realizes there isn’t even a handle on this side, which is strange enough in itself.

“Stefano!” he calls, but there is no reply. In fact, everything around him is quite still and silent.

He pushes and pushes, and when that fails he tries to wedge his fingers into the space between the door and the frame to pull it open, but he can’t make any progress either way, and he is beginning to suspect that this door is either locked or sealed with whatever power Silent Hill uses to keep him and Stefano apart.

Next he turns his attention to the frosted glass window between the reception desk and the lobby, dashing over to it to peer through the clear center portion into the room beyond. Everything there looks exactly as it did when he left it, except there is no Stefano. He briefly considers picking up a heavy object and breaking the glass, but if he can’t see Stefano over there, he has little hope that removing that barrier would change anything.

“Damn it,” he swears under his breath. “Stefano?” he calls one more time, but there is still no reply, and he heaves a sigh and turns back to face the room. At least in the past, they have been able to reunite when they’ve been separated, so he has some hope that he’ll be able to see Stefano again before too long.

Just then, he remembers his radio and gets it out to see if he can contact Stefano that way. He hasn’t even pressed the button before it crackles to life.

“Sebastian?” The sound of Stefano’s voice floods him with relief.

“Yeah, I’m here. What the hell happened? I thought you were right behind me?”

“I was,” Stefano replies, “but then there was that noise coming from the statue. Surely you must have heard it?”

“No,” Sebastian replies, genuinely baffled. “It’s been really quiet here since I opened the door.”

“You did not hear the siren either?”

“No,” Sebastian replies, his stomach twisting as he realizes Stefano may be in considerably more danger than he is right now. “What’s going on out there? Is anything else different?”

“The statue’s eyes are uncovered,” Stefano replies, “but I do not know what it means. Everything else appears to be the same. I cannot open the door from this side.”

“I can’t open it from my side either,” says Sebastian, feeling a stab of guilt, because this is sort of his fault. “I’m sorry. I thought you came through right behind me.”

“It’s alright,” Stefano replies. “If you didn’t hear the sound I heard, then I suspect we were intended to end up on opposite sides of the door.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Nor do I,” Stefano says. “So let’s try to meet up again soon.”

“Right,” Sebastian says. “I’ll start exploring and try to find some other exit. You...just be careful, okay? I’m not sure what’s going on over there if you heard the siren.”

“Understood,” Stefano replies. “And you be careful as well. You seem to be taking the brunt of the town’s wrath lately.”

Sebastian laughs. It feels like Silent Hill has torn his body open, stripped him down to his very bones to see what makes him tick, and then left him to rebuild himself from the discarded pieces. It shouldn’t be funny, but the way Stefano describes it does amuse him a little.

“I will,” he says. “Call me if anything happens.”

He puts the radio away and rakes a hand through his hair. He doesn’t like this situation at all. When they’ve heard the siren before, it has corresponded to both situations where they’ve been split up and changes in the layout of the building, but he doesn’t remember a situation where only one of them heard the siren, and the implications of that are troubling. At the moment, though, there’s nothing to do but try to find some way back to the lobby and hopefully to Stefano.

This room has windows along one wall, though it appears to be nighttime now, or at least the world beyond the windows is black and indistinct. There is also very little light coming in from the lobby, but there is one lamp illuminated at a desk near the center of this room, and Sebastian moves toward it instinctively.

The desk is neat and tidy, and a little stab of pain in his heart reminds him of Joseph for a moment, but he puts it aside. He and Joseph have made their peace, at least temporarily, and he has his new partner’s safety to worry about. There is a single sheet of paper on the desk under the beam of the lamp, and it draws his attention immediately, simply because there is nothing else around it. He places his hands on the desk and leans over to read it.

_Krimson City Fire Department_

_Investigator’s Report_

_Incident Number: 2012021108_

_Location: 209 Federal Street_

_Responded at 1932 to a two-story single family house fully engulfed in flames. Neighbors reported three people resided there and a fourth could possibly be inside. Units 2, 3, and 4 began attempts to control the fire and were able to prevent any spread to neighboring houses. Active fire extinguished at 1954 but building still hot until 2240. At 1950, two residents- Sebastian and Myra Castellanos- arrived on-scene very agitated and reported there were two people inside the structure. Building safe to enter at 2240 and rescue units located two sets of human remains in an upstairs bedroom- one adult and one child. Preliminary identification of victims as Juanita Flores and Lily Castellanos._

_Investigation of structure revealed multiple possible causes for the fire._

The next several lines of the report are blacked out, but that doesn’t register with Sebastian for several minutes. His heart is frozen inside his chest, and the world around him has faded away to be replaced by the remains of his home- his and Myra’s and Lily’s home. How long did he stand outside the skeleton of the house, even after the firefighters and the investigators and the coroner had left, trying to understand, trying to process what had happened.

At the time, it felt like a bad dream, like there was some sort of disconnect in his brain. The body bag they had taken out of the house couldn’t contain his child. That wasn’t possible. She was out with her nanny, and they were going to come home at any moment to have dinner with him and Myra.

He has never seen this particular report before, but he has read plenty of fire investigator’s notes, and this rings true. How it came to be here in Silent Hill, how it came to be on this desk in front of him, is far too complicated to think about right now.

He swallows hard. This shouldn’t surprise him. He’s had to confront a lot of troubling things from his past already, but somehow this feels like it’s going to be too much.

He looks up from the desk to see a door ahead of him, and of course it’s the door to Lily’s room. He can hear Lily behind it singing a little song to herself, the way she used to do before the fire. She has such a vivid imagination that she could entertain herself for hours.

His first instinct is to rush to the door and throw it open, to call out to her, gather her in his arms, and then hold onto this moment and never let go of it, but there is also a warning sounding in the back of his mind, a heaviness in his chest that tells him he’d only be fooling himself. The same way that Myra holding onto artifacts of Lily won’t bring her back, he can’t bring her back with his memories and hopes and dreams.

Almost unconsciously, his hand finds his radio, and he raises it to his mouth.

“Stefano?”

“Yes, Sebastian. I am here.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. Up until that moment, he wasn’t certain his transmission would go through, wasn’t sure where Stefano might be or what he might be doing, but at least it seems like they can still talk.

“I think…” He pauses for a moment, turning words over in his brain as he tries to describe what has happened and what is going to happen. “I think I have to go into Lily’s room,” he says finally, realizing how crazy it sounds, but unable to describe the situation any better than that.

“Ah,” Stefano says. “I suppose I can see how that might happen. How are you feeling about it?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies. “Nervous I guess. I feel like she’s going to be angry at me.”

“Was Lily ever angry at you before?” Stefano asks, and even though Stefano never met Lily, it sounds like he already knows the answer to this question.

“No,” Sebastian replies, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth in spite of everything. “She was almost never angry at anyone. I just...I don’t know. I feel like she should be angry at me. I failed her, Stefano, I-”

“Stop.” Stefano’s transmission cuts him off. “Do not even think that for a moment. You did not fail her, Sebastian. No one failed her, and if you keep thinking like that, you are going to fall right into the trap this town has laid for you.”

Sebastian doesn’t have an answer for that. He wants to argue with Stefano, wants to tell him that of course he failed Lily. He is her father. It’s his duty to protect her, and the fact that she isn’t here anymore, the fact that she is dead, means he failed in that duty. It’s not going to do any good to argue this point now though. The best he can do is to keep Stefano’s advice in mind.

“I’ll try,” he says. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“That is all any of us can do,” Stefano replies. “Good luck. I will be here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says. “Where is ‘here’ by the way?” he adds, realizing he has no idea where Stefano actually is.

“I wish I knew,” Stefano says, “but I am trying to find my way back. You go on ahead.”

Sebastian doesn’t exactly like the sound of Stefano’s voice at the moment. He doesn’t sound afraid. In fact, his voice has a calm, dreamlike quality that is a little surreal, but Sebastian isn’t sure whether it’s just because of the radio or whether Stefano is actually speaking strangely.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

There is no response.

“Stefano?”

Still no response.

He sighs heavily and puts his radio away. It was too much to hope that they would be able to have a truly unrestricted conversation, and now he wonders if he was even talking to the real Stefano. It seems like he was though; the things Stefano said sounded like things Stefano would actually say, and either way, he still needs to move forward, needs to find his way back to Stefano even as Stefano is trying to find his way back to him.

His eyes fall on the door to Lily’s room. He knows he has to go through that door, but he has to go through knowing what to expect. He takes a deep breath and starts across the room, heart pounding in his chest.

As he reaches the door and takes the knob in his hand, he is struck by a wave of nostalgia. How many times did he come to Lily’s room like this, hear her singing through the door and smile to himself, and then open the door so she could run into his arms? It happened more times than he can count, and right now this feels exactly like one of those times.

He opens the door, and time stops.

Lily’s room is exactly the way it used to be. Her bed and her toys and games are all in their proper places, and the afternoon sunlight is streaming in through the window. Sebastian notes all of this in his peripheral vision, because his eyes are fixed on Lily herself.

She is sitting on the floor, dolls in hand, and when she moves, it feels to Sebastian like it’s in slow motion. She turns her head toward the door, and a smile slowly spreads across her face until she is beaming up at Sebastian.

“Lily.” It’s all he can say, but it breaks the trance he is in, breaks the spell of silence and stillness all around him, and suddenly Lily is on her feet rushing at him with a squeal of delight.

Instinctively, he drops to one knee, opening his arms to her, and she rushes into them, throwing her arms around his neck. It’s a harsh wake-up call, because her skin is cold- not just room temperature, but actually freezing. All the same, he’s not going to reject a hug from his child, so he grits his teeth and embraces her back until she pulls away.

“Dad!” she says, still grinning from ear to ear. “What took you so long?”

Her voice is...almost right. It has the right pitch and inflection, but it’s flat, almost like he’s listening to her on a recording or a home movie. He has certainly watched enough of them to know what that sounds like. It’s vaguely unsettling, but she’s still here, and she’s right in front of him, so he smiles back even though his eyes are brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I...I don’t know what took me so long. I don’t think I knew I was supposed to be looking for you.”

“But you were,” Lily says. She is speaking like a much older child and like she knows far more than she should. “You were looking for me this whole time. Even more than Mom was.”

“I’m not sure anybody could be looking for you more than Mom was,” Sebastian observes, because Myra was nothing if not fanatical in her dedication to proving her conspiracy theories and finding Lily.

“But you’re the one who found me,” Lily points out. “You came all the way here to find me. You’ll stay and play with me, won’t you?”

Sebastian heaves a sigh, because the last thing he ever wants to do as a father is disappoint Lily, and even though some part of him knows this isn’t Lily, knows that something is terribly wrong here, his little girl is standing right in front of him asking him to stay.

“Maybe you could come with me instead,” he offers. “We could leave together.” Even as he says it, he knows in his heart it’s not going to work that way.

Lily shakes her head. “I can’t ever leave here,” she says. A frown crosses her face. “Why did you come and find me here if you didn’t want to stay?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian answers honestly. “I guess I felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Lily smiles again, but this time it’s a sad smile.

“It’s a little late for that,” she says with a tone that doesn’t belong to a five-year-old.

“I know,” Sebastian says. “I know.”

_Too late. Not enough._

The words ring out in his head for what feels like the hundredth time today. They are true. He is sure they are true, but he doesn’t understand how they are supposed to help him now, how knowing this makes any difference to anyone. Frustration burns hot in his chest.

“Why is this happening to me?” he growls, more at Silent Hill then at Lily. “Why am I seeing all of this if I can’t change anything?”

Lily grasps his hands with both of hers. “You can always change something,” she says, “but maybe not the way you want to change it.”

Her eyes are sad, pleading, as she asks, “Are you sure you won’t stay?”

His heart is heavy, and there is a lump in his throat as he says, “I can’t. I’m so sorry, but I can’t. This isn’t real. You’re not real.”

His heart is breaking even as he says it, but he knows it’s true. He feels as though he’s being torn in two just admitting that the little girl in front of him isn’t his daughter, but there is nothing to be gained from pretending that she is- only pain and self-delusion.

Lily squeezes his hands, then turns away and goes to pick up one of her dolls. She brings it back and hands it to Sebastian. He turns it over in his hand, considering it for a moment, but it’s starting to become a familiar sight even here in Silent Hill. It’s the same one he found in the box in the storage room outside the hospital, the same one Diego found here in the police station. It may be made in Lily’s image, but it isn’t the real Lily any more than the child in front of him is the real Lily.

He looks from the doll to Lily’s face.

“I love you, sweetie,” he says, not bothering to hide the tremor in his voice. “I’ll always love you.”

“I know,” Lily says somberly, “but you won’t see me again.”

Sebastian nods and swallows down the lump in his throat, even as the tears are starting to flow down his face. “I know.”

Of course he won’t see her again. He knows that. He has known that since the day she died, except that somehow, even then he had managed to convince himself that if he wished hard enough, if he atoned enough, if he punished himself enough- he might be able to find her, to be with her again. It’s a ridiculous idea, but some part of his brain has been holding onto it for years, and finally acknowledging it feels both momentous and empty all at once.

“Bye, Dad,” Lily says. She leans in to kiss him on the cheek, and her lips are cold. It’s a painful reminder of how false all of this is, but it doesn’t lessen the ache in his chest or stop the flow of tears.

“Goodbye, Lily.”

He bows his head, doll still clutched in his hands, and sobs openly. He would never have cried like this in front of Lily- or even in front of Myra. He would never have wanted either one of them to see him like this. He was their protector, and even when he failed spectacularly in that duty, he still couldn’t bear for either one of them to see him weakened, diminished like this.

He is gasping for air now, so racked with grief that he can hardly breathe, feeling as though he might actually drown or more likely be crushed under the weight of his own sorrow. Lily is gone, and she is never coming back, and no amount of wishing or atonement or punishment is going to change that. There is nothing he can do to make this any better, and he is just going to have to learn to live with the pain.

Somehow, facing the situation head-on seems to help a little. He has been trying so hard to change what happened that admitting he can do nothing to affect it almost feels like a sigh of relief, like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, like a loosening of the tightness in his chest. He takes a deep breath and raises his head.

Lily and her room are gone, and he is kneeling on the floor of another storage room. This one is clearly long-abandoned with a thick coating of dust on everything. In the dust on the floor though, Sebastian can see footprints- small ones, like those of a child.

Getting up off the floor might be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but when he has forced himself to his feet, he begins to follow the footprints. They wind their way through the shelves, and Sebastian realizes this room is much larger than he initially believed. It’s almost more of a warehouse than a storage room, and he might be lost in here for a very long time without the footprints to guide him.

He follows them all the way to a shelf in the far corner, and when he reaches it, he finds an open cardboard box. He turns over one of the flaps that form the top of the box to see Myra’s handwriting.

_Remains_

What he has to do is painfully obvious, but he still struggles with it. The doll in his hands is all he has left of Lily, even though of course it isn’t really here because it burned up in the fire with everything else. Part of him wants to take it with him, to guard it, to protect it the same way he should have protected the real Lily, but he would be lying to himself if he did that.

This isn’t Lily. There is no Lily anymore.

With trembling hands, he places the doll inside the box, and folds the flaps closed, then pushes the box back into its place on the shelf. For a moment, he wonders what is in all of the rest of these boxes, whether all of them are memories and hopes and dreams, whether they are all his, or whether they belong to everyone who has ever come to Silent Hill.

It doesn’t matter though, because one thing has become painfully clear. He can’t build his life on memories anymore.

He turns to his left, and there at the end of the row of shelves is a door. The red exit sign glowing above it looks like the kind he’s seen a thousand times in a thousand buildings. He doesn’t know where it will lead, but he can’t stay here anymore.

He opens the door and steps out into the blinding light.


	32. Chromatic Aberration

Stefano drops to one knee and closes his eye as he waits for the siren to stop. He has learned by now that rushing around trying to get back to Sebastian isn’t going to be effective. He is able to manage his reaction to the sound of the siren much better now, but the noise still threatens to bring him back to a much darker time in his life. He almost laughs at the idea that something could be darker than being stuck in Silent Hill, then wonders why on earth he would be laughing now.

His heart is beating faster, and he can feel his adrenaline rising, but he also knows it’s not real. They’re not about to be bombed. His life isn’t in immediate danger, and even if he is going to be separated from Sebastian for some period of time, it’s something he’s dealt with before, something he can manage. Just the thought of Sebastian is rather soothing, and he focuses on that for a moment.

The wailing of the siren seems much farther away when he can concentrate on the way Sebastian’s arms feel around him, the way Sebastian’s lips feel against his. He wishes they had time to explore those feelings a bit more when they were in the darkroom, but Sebastian seems to have some unresolved issues in that department. Whatever holdovers Sebastian has from his job or whatever it was that happened between him and Myra has left him with some reservations about intimacy, and clearly that wasn’t the time to try to work through them. Stefano does, however, hope they’ll be able to work through them at some point, because he is very much interested in being intimate with Sebastian.

These more pleasant thoughts are interrupted when the siren dies away, and he opens his eye, which is drawn immediately to the Justice statue. She is still unblindfolded and illuminated by the spotlight. With the rest of the room draped in deep darkness, she is the clear focal point.

Stefano takes a deep breath as he rises to his feet. As transfixed as he is by the statue, Sebastian is still his first priority. He turns to the office door again and tries to open it, but it remains tightly closed. Of course, Sebastian has the swipe card, so all of this makes perfect sense, but Stefano has the impression there is more than just that going on here.

“Sebastian?” he calls out. “Sebastian?”

There is no answer, and he turns to face the statue again before he pulls out his radio. He wants to keep the statue in his line of sight, because the idea that it might somehow come to life and be hostile toward him is certainly not outside the realm of possibility in Silent Hill.

He presses the button on the radio.

“Sebastian?” 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Sebastian’s answer comes so quickly, and the relief in his voice is so audible that Stefano feels a stab of guilt for allowing them to be separated in the first place. “What the hell happened? I thought you were right behind me?”

“I was,” Stefano replies, “but then there was that noise coming from the statue. Surely you must have heard it?”

“No,” Sebastian says. “It’s been really quiet here since I opened the door.”

Stefano opens his mouth and closes it again. He and Sebastian have surely had very different experiences when they were separated, but for Sebastian to not even hear something that was clearly audible to him when they were in the same room has...troubling implications.

“You did not hear the siren either?” he asks, because surely Sebastian would have mentioned the siren if he had heard it.

“No,” Sebastian replies, and now what Stefano can hear in his voice is fear. Of course, he’s afraid for Stefano, and Stefano doesn’t know whether that is heartwarming or just more frightening than ever. “What’s going on out there? Is anything else different?”

“The statue’s eyes are uncovered,” Stefano replies, his gaze still locked on the statue, “but I do not know what it means. Everything else appears to be the same. I cannot open the door from this side.”

“I can’t open it from my side either,” says Sebastian. “I’m sorry. I thought you came through right behind me.”

“It’s alright,” Stefano replies. Sebastian cannot continue feeling guilty about this. He is burdened enough by guilt as it is, and if he is going to withstand whatever the town throws at him next, he will need to get that under control, particularly in this case, where Silent Hill had much more to do than Sebastian with the fact that they are now separated.

Stefano adds, “If you didn’t hear the sound I heard, then I suspect we were intended to end up on opposite sides of the door.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

“Nor do I,” Stefano says, smiling faintly at the tone of Sebastian’s voice. Sebastian really does wear his heart on his sleeve. “So let’s try to meet up again soon.”

“Right,” Sebastian says. “I’ll start exploring and try to find some other exit. You...just be careful, okay? I’m not sure what’s going on over there if you heard the siren.”

“Understood,” Stefano replies. “And you be careful as well. You seem to be taking the brunt of the town’s wrath lately.”

It hasn’t been particularly easy for either one of them, but Stefano does feel as though Silent Hill has become more focused on tormenting Sebastian since they arrived at the police station. As silly as it sounds, he would be glad to take some of the town’s focus for a little while if it made Sebastian’s life easier, but it doesn’t seem like that is going to happen.

Sebastian laughs, which is an entirely inappropriate reaction under the circumstances but also one Stefano can’t blame him for.

“I will,” he says. “Call me if anything happens.”

Once the radio contact with Sebastian ends, gloom settles over Stefano like a wet blanket. Being in Silent Hill with a companion is bad enough, but being alone here is so dispiriting, so utterly bleak, that Stefano finds it hard to motivate himself to even take a step from where he is standing. After all, what is the point of exploring or interacting with things around him when the end result is always going to be the same? He finds himself missing not only Sebastian, but Diego as well, because even another nonhuman presence did much to improve his state of mind.

What eventually spurs him to action is the knowledge that, at least in similar situations, staying in place has never brought him any closer to escape or any closer to Sebastian. If he stays put, he is quite literally never going to make any progress, and he will stay here forever until he becomes just another ghost in this empty town.

He does briefly consider the fact that there is only a sheet of glass separating him from the area behind the reception desk, but decides that if he can’t see or hear Sebastian through it, then it won’t do any good to try to breach it even if he could find something heavy enough to use. He circles the room, trying each door and finding all of them to be locked or at least, not able to be opened by normal human means.

He returns to stand in front of the statue, at a loss for what to do. Anytime they’ve been confined to one room before, there has been a clear purpose or objective, but now he seems to have reached a dead end, and the only possible lead is this statue. Unfortunately, Stefano has no idea how to pursue that lead. The statue seems to be one solid piece, without any panels or crevices where something could be hidden, and there is no obvious way to interact with it.

He spends several minutes staring at it in confusion before he remembers that he still has one tool he has used in the past to successfully manipulate their environment. His hand slips into his pocket and his fingers wrap around his camera. It’s not the obvious solution, but then it wasn’t an obvious solution to any of their previous problems either, and it’s the only idea he has left.

He draws the camera out of his pocket, raises it to his eye, and lines up a shot of the statue. He holds his breath as he snaps the picture.

The camera flash is blinding, and as it fades away, so does the spotlight above the statue. Stefano is in total darkness for a moment until a new set of lights, much dimmer and tinted a deep blue, come on. These ones appear to be set in the floor all around the statue, or at least, they illuminate it from below.

Much to Stefano’s surprise, the statue gasps, arching her back with a sound like an avalanche. Stefano is frozen in place, suddenly very much intimidated by her towering figure but at the same time, entranced by her.

Lady Justice, or Justitia, as Stefanos’ grandmother would have called her- and it does seem more appropriate to address her by that name now that she is staring down at him with her cold, though clearly animate eyes- still holds her scales in one hand and her sword in the other. Stefano sincerely hopes she is not feeling aggressive, as she is much more well-armed than he is.

“State your name.”

It’s undeniably a female voice, but it is deep, resonant, and it seems to come from all around him. The thought that it would be very strange to converse with a statue doesn’t even cross his mind, as it is by far not the strangest thing he has done in Silent Hill.

“My name is Stefano Valentini,” Stefano says, voice coming out much steadier than he expected it to under the circumstances.

“And why have you come here?”

This question takes Stefano aback somewhat, because he doesn’t understand whether she is asking why he has come to the police station, or to Silent Hill, and in either case, he didn’t do it of his own volition.

“I did not intend to,” he answers. “I was...brought here by forces beyond my control.”

“No man comes here of his own free will,” Justitia booms. “The question is, do you know why you have been brought before me?”

Stefano is once again overwhelmed by the feeling that he is being evaluated somehow.

“To be judged, I suppose,” he says. “To answer for my transgressions.”

“What transgressions have you committed?”

“I...I do not know,” Stefano says. He must have done something wrong. That’s why he is here being judged after all, but the struggle of surviving in Silent Hill has driven those thoughts from his mind...or perhaps it has revitalized them.

“Until you know,” Justitia admonishes him, “you will not be ready to leave this place.”

She begins to shift back into her original position, and the noise it makes sounds like rocks sliding over each other.

“Wait!” Stefano calls out, raising a hand.

Justitia freezes, still looking down at him, and Stefano continues. “My transgression was one of inaction, of passivity. There was a man, a man I cared about greatly, a man who had saved my life more than once and in more ways than one, but when it came time to return the favor, I was unable to do so.”

Stefano pauses to see if Justitia has any comment on that, but she remains mute, so he keeps going, and he finds that once he begins to speak, it is difficult to stop. The words keep flowing from his mouth, tumbling over each other as the story pours forth.

“I watched him die. I documented his death the same way I documented so many others. There is a great distance between a photographer and his subject, even when they are standing very close together, and I could not close that distance, not even for the man I loved.

“I kept him at arm’s length, safe on the other side of the camera lens, even though he needed me, and ever since then I...I suppose I have held everyone at that distance.”

Justitia speaks then. “You have been carrying this guilt for a long time. You have been in isolation for a long time.”

Stefano nods, because it has been a long time, an unimaginably long time to suffer in silence.

“Yes,” he replies, “and I can feel it eating away at me every day. Tell me, how much of yourself can you lose before there is nothing left at all?”

She stares back at him blankly. “I have no answers for you.”

Stefano frowns, because he has the strong impression that he is talking to an actual entity, not a ghost or an echo, but something with agency, something that exists within this town that actually matters. “Will you judge me then? Will you pronounce your sentence and free me from this...this purgatory?”

He gestures at the room around them as he speaks, but in reality he means the whole town. All of Silent Hill is his purgatory, and he is sure it is Sebastian’s too. Perhaps every poor soul who comes here is in purgatory themselves.

Justitia’s voice is still cold, but Stefano thinks he detects just a hint of sympathy when she says, “It is not my judgment you need.”

“Excuse me?” Stefano can’t believe what he is hearing, because everything about this situation points so strongly to the conclusion that this entity will determine his fate.

“It is not my judgment you need,” she repeats, “any more than it is Silent Hill forcing you to remain here. You must judge yourself. You must find a way to resolve your guilt or learn to live with it, but the only thing keeping you here is your own mind.”

Now Stefano is the one staring blankly, because the idea that his own mind has him trapped here is preposterous. He wants to leave more than anything else. He has tried to leave numerous times, and ever since he met Sebastian they have been trying together. Surely if this was all a mental exercise they would have escaped the town by now.

“Judge yourself, Stefano,” Justitia says, “or you will remain here forever.”

There is a loud sound, almost like another rock slide, and for a moment, Stefano feels as though he is falling. His body jerks as he tries to catch himself, but suddenly he is on the floor, jerking awake as though out of a deep sleep.

He sits up abruptly and takes in the room. Justitia is still before him, but she is clearly just a statue now, and she is illuminated by the white spotlight. He wonders briefly if he somehow dozed off or if he fell or hit his head and simply had a very vivid dream, but he is still holding his camera in one hand, and it could only be from when he took the photo that animated Justitia.

He turns the camera over in his hands to find a massive crack splitting the lens. It’s the sort of thing that normally would fill him with despair...or anger, but at the moment, it seems fitting somehow. This camera has been his tool, his instrument, but it has also been a crutch, a way to distance himself from the world around him, from the people around him, but that has to change.

It has to change, because after coming here and meeting Sebastian, he knows there is at least one person he wants to have in his life, and not as a subject or a model, but as a living, breathing entity. He needs to get himself out of Silent Hill, but even more so, he needs to get Sebastian out of Silent Hill. He has his new brother in arms, and he is not going to leave him behind.

Almost as if on cue, a light comes on underneath one of the closed doors, the one that neither of them has been through yet- the one that has not opened since they came here. He gets to his feet, tucking his camera into his pocket as he walks to the door. This time when he grabs the handle, he is able to pull it open.

The light on the other side of the door is blinding at first, and Stefano raises a hand to shield his eye, but even with the glare, he can already see that he’s on the battlefield again. There is sand under his feet, and the sun is beating down on him, but everything around him is deathly still.

The sound of the radio makes him jump.

“Stefano?”

Sebastian’s voice fills him with hope, even though Sebastian sounds more like he is filled with despair. Stefano pulls out his radio and answers.

“Yes, Sebastian. I am here.”

He may not be exactly sure where ‘here’ is, but he is absolutely here for Sebastian if Sebastian needs him.

“I think…I think I have to go into Lily’s room,” Sebastian says. It should strike Stefano as an odd thing for him to say, but after everything they have seen in Silent Hill and especially after taking a look at the landscape around him now, it makes as much sense as anything else.

“Ah,” Stefano says, beginning to walk across the sand as he talks to Sebastian. “I suppose I can see how that might happen. How are you feeling about it?”

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies. “Nervous I guess. I feel like she’s going to be angry at me.”

“Was Lily ever angry at you before?” Stefano asks. He didn’t know Lily of course, but Sebastian’s fear sounds like it is probably based more in Sebastian’s mind then in reality, and if Sebastian is going to face such a great trauma, he needs to be thinking critically, not being ruled by his emotions.

“No,” Sebastian replies, “she was almost never angry at anyone. I just...I don’t know. I feel like she should be angry at me. I failed her, Stefano, I-”

“Stop.” Stefano cuts him off, because Sebastian is starting to sound just like Stefano did a few minutes ago when he was pouring his heart out to a statue. “Do not even think that for a moment. You did not fail her, Sebastian. No one failed her, and if you keep thinking like that, you are going to fall right into the trap this town has laid for you.”

There is a long pause, during which Stefano hopes he hasn’t hurt Sebastian’s feelings, but if there is any meaning to whatever happened between him and Justitia, Sebastian has to forgive himself. If he wallows in guilt, he is never going to make it out of here either.

“I’ll try,” Sebastian says finally. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try.”

“That is all any of us can do,” Stefano replies. “Good luck. I will be here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says. “Where is ‘here’ by the way?”

“I wish I knew,” Stefano says, his brow furrowing because he has just spotted a familiar group of people up ahead near the barracks. He shouldn’t be surprised, and he doesn’t want to make Sebastian worry, so he adds, “but I am trying to find my way back. You go on ahead.”

He is walking briskly toward the group now, his heart pounding in his chest. Everything around him seems frozen in time, but he can tell by the way everyone is positioned, the way Andre is standing that this moment is right before-

“Is everything alright?”

He hears Sebastian’s voice, but the radio slips from his hand. He is running now.

“Stefano?”

He is in a full sprint, and he can see the moment the people in front of him begin to move, to talk and laugh, unaware of what is about to happen. He sees the grenade hit the ground, and he throws himself forward.

There is a roar of static inside his head, the muted sounds of the explosion, of men shouting, and then nothing.


	33. Hope in Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end note for warnings for this chapter.

Sebastian blinks rapidly, raises a hand to shield his eyes from the white light that is all around him, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any good. His eyes feel like they are burning inside his skull, and even if he forces them open, he can’t see a damn thing. He squeezes them closed and staggers forward blindly, hoping to stumble into an area that isn’t so cripplingly bright.

It does occur to him briefly that this is a little bit strange, because it appeared to be dusk when they entered the police station, and then it appeared to be night when he was in the reception area just a little while ago. Of course, he can’t tell whether it’s the sun beating down on him or some sort of extremely strong artificial light, and it probably doesn’t matter anyway because this is Silent Hill, and the town is obviously just going to do whatever it damn well pleases.

The fact that he is in Silent Hill is a bit of a sobering reminder, and it certainly makes Sebastian reconsider his plan of moving blindly forward. After all, how is he supposed to know if there is some huge hole in the earth just ahead of him? He presses on anyway, because he has no other choice. He can’t stay where he is, and he can only hope that somewhere up ahead is something better.

After a few more steps, during which he can only hope that he is not unknowingly walking into something dangerous, he cracks his eyes open to risk a look at his surroundings, and finds that he can actually see a bit of his surroundings now. The blinding light is gone, and he appears to be outside. It’s daylight, although visibility is still rather limited as the sky is grey and there are remnants of the town’s signature fog hanging in the air all around him.

In spite of everything, it feels good to be outside again. He feels somehow more free, less restricted, even though he knows he’s still trapped in the town itself. Unfortunately, being outside also drives home the fact that he and Stefano are separated. For all he knows, Stefano is still inside the police station, and Sebastian sure as hell isn’t going on without him.

He turns around to face what might be the direction he came from. He’s not even sure about that since he was able to see so little up until now, and it’s entirely possible he’s been walking in circles. To his surprise, there aren’t any buildings behind him at all. In fact, he appears to be in the middle of a public park, with sidewalks and grassy areas and benches. He still can’t see very far in any direction because of the fog, but he can’t even begin to guess where the police station is in relation to this place, if it’s even here at all.

His heart is beating faster now, panic rising up in his chest, because he promised he wasn’t going to leave Stefano. He promised they were in this together and they were going to escape this town together, and he fully intends to keep that promise, but if he’s now in a completely different place from Stefano, he’s not doing a very good job.

He grabs the radio from his belt and speaks into it.

“Stefano?”

There’s no answer.

“Stefano, can you hear me?”

His voice is rising, and when he doesn’t get a response the second time either, he swears under his breath. He tries to tell himself this doesn’t actually mean anything, that the town has split them up before, that the town has interfered with their radio connection before, but even though both of those things are true, they don’t make him feel any better. Stefano is alone in Silent Hill, and Stefano needs him, and-

The radio suddenly blares to life, and Sebastian jumps. What comes out is not words, but music, the soaring strings of a classical score. Sebastian doesn’t recognize the song- in fact he’s sure he’s never heard it before- but it comes through so clearly and loudly that he freezes in place and just listens, because surely this has some meaning if it’s being broadcast directly to him.

But when the song ends and the radio goes silent again, Sebastian is left with no more understanding of what is going on here than before. It’s vaguely troubling to him that he doesn’t see the significance of the melody, and he does try calling for Stefano one more time after it ends in case something has changed in their ability to communicate, but now the radio is completely silent, and Sebastian sighs in frustration and tucks it away.

His next course of action can only be to explore the park, and with no sense of where he came from he sets out in the direction he is currently facing, following the paved path as it winds through some playground and garden areas. The fog hangs heavy here, and it gives his surroundings an eerie feeling, even in the daylight. Once or twice, he thinks he hears a child’s laugh from the direction of the playground, but if the rusting equipment and encroaching vegetation is any indicator, no child has played here for a very long time.

He is just beginning to wonder whether there is any point to him being in this place at all when he spots a human figure up ahead. The man is lying on a park bench, and Sebastian approaches with caution, because some of the human figures they’ve encountered have turned out to be not so human after all.

Still, whether this is a friend or a foe, he is encouraged to see anyone here in this bleak, empty park. He edges in closer, afraid to speak at first in case this really is some new kind of monster, but as he gets close enough to make out the person’s clothing and features through the fog, he recognizes the man’s face.

“Stefano!”

His heart leaps into his throat, both with excitement at seeing Stefano again and fear that he has been injured somehow. He is lying motionless on his back on the bench, and he doesn’t stir as Sebastian rushes over. Sebastian drops to his knees beside the bench, ignoring the shooting pain in his leg, and grabs Stefano by the shoulders, giving him a little shake.

“Stefano!”

Stefano’s eye flies open, but there is no recognition on his face- only fear. He sits up, jerking away from Sebastian and retreating to sit at the far end of the bench.

“Who are you?” he asks, a bewildered expression on his face. “And how do you know my name?”

Sebastian is sure his mouth must be hanging open, and he can almost feel his brain turning over as he tries to process what’s happening. His relief at Stefano being awake and seemingly uninjured is almost entirely eclipsed by confusion and the vague sense of dread that comes from the fact that Stefano doesn’t seem to recognize him.

He raises his hands, palms facing Stefano, in a placating gesture, because Stefano does look genuinely alarmed. “Stefano, it’s me,” he insists. “It’s Sebastian. I know your name because I know you. We’ve been together here for...for I don’t know how long.”

Stefano looks skeptical. “I do not recall ever meeting you,” he says. “And where exactly is ‘here’?”

Sebastian tries to ignore the real, physical pain that springs up in his chest when Stefano says they’ve never met and pushes on to Stefano’s actual question. “Silent Hill. We’re in Silent Hill. Surely that name means something to you.”

Stefano shakes his head. “I am afraid I am not familiar with it.”

Sebastian’s heart sinks deeper and deeper with every word Stefano says. He knows this must be some new trick of the town, but he isn’t sure what form it will ultimately take- whether this is the same Stefano he’s been with the whole time but with his memories erased, whether this is some sort of doppelganger and the real Stefano is somewhere else, or whether it’s some third possibility he can’t even conceive of. All of his instincts are telling him to help and comfort the man in front of him, but he can’t ignore the nagging fear that this is all another deception.

“What’s the last thing you remember before waking up on this bench?” Sebastian asks, hoping the answer will either jog Stefano’s memory or at least give him some more information about what’s going on here.

Stefano looks up at the sky for a few seconds and sighs, seemingly considering. “I...I do not know,” he says finally, giving his head a little shake. “It seems I may be having some trouble with my memory.”

Sebastian smiles in sympathy. “Yeah, it looks that way. That’s...actually not that unusual here,” he says. “It’s kind of a strange place.”

“Do you live here?” Stefano asks. He leans forward slightly, curiosity apparently overcoming his initial reservations about Sebastian.

“No,” Sebastian says quickly, because he can’t even imagine what it would be like to live in Silent Hill and he certainly hopes he will never have to call it his home. “No, I’m trying to get out of here. You and I were trying to get out of here.”

Stefano frowns, and Sebastian waits. There’s a lot he wants to say, and the words are starting to pile up in his head, threatening to come out all at once. He wants to tell Stefano all about their struggles in Silent Hill, how much they’ve overcome already, and how close they’ve grown to each other, but he’s sure Stefano isn’t ready to hear that. While he appears to be interested in what Sebastian has to say, it’s clear from his body language that he doesn’t trust Sebastian.

Stefano shakes his head. “I don’t understand,” he says, frustration coming through in his voice. “Why can’t I remember this? Why can’t I remember anything?”

Sebastian frowns. He’s not sure whether it’s a good idea or not to try to remind Stefano of any of the events of his past, both because he’s afraid it will be too shocking for Stefano and because it may confirm the extent of his memory loss, but he seems to be out of other options.

“Do you remember your childhood?” he begins, because hopefully those memories are slightly less traumatic than some of the others he’s aware of.

Stefano shakes his head.

“Growing up in Florence?” Sebastian tries. “Your sister Aria?”

A muscle in Stefano’s face twitches at the mention of Aria’s name, but he shakes his head again.

“Arguing with your father?”

“No,” Stefano says, and the look in his eye is as confused as it is earnest. “I...I don’t recall anything like that. I can’t recall anything from my childhood at the moment.”

Sebastian tries a different approach. “Check your pockets,” he says. “Is there anything in them?”

Stefano first pulls out his radio. He frowns at it in confusion and sets it beside him on the bench. Even if it doesn’t help to jog Stefano’s memory, it at least gives Sebastian some confidence that this is his companion and not some look-alike the town has produced.

When he investigates his other jacket pocket and draws out the camera, Stefano’s face changes. His mouth opens slightly as though he is about to speak, and he turns the camera over in his hands, looking at it from every angle before he holds it in front of him as though he is about to take a picture. There is a large crack running through the lens, but Sebastian isn’t concerned about that right now.

“This is...familiar,” Stefano says. His words are tentative, halting, but it’s the only hint of the real Stefano that Sebastian has seen since he found him on this bench, so it’s some encouragement.

“That’s right,” Sebastian says. “You’re a photographer.”

Stefano nods. “I suppose I could be.”

“You are,” Sebastian insists, feeling a little frustrated himself because it seems like they should be close to a breakthrough. “You used to take pictures on the battlefield. Remember?”

Stefano shifts in his seat looking mildly annoyed. “Remembering seems to be the one thing I cannot do right now.”

Sebastian sighs. “What about Andre?” he asks. “Do you remember Andre?”

Stefano looks like he might be about to tell Sebastian off a little more sternly, but in the next moment his face changes from confusion and annoyance to recognition, then excitement, then terror. His body convulses, and his camera falls from his hand and hits the pavement.

“Stefano?” Sebastian is at his side again in an instant, hands on his shoulders. “Stefano!”

His voice is rising now, but he can’t help it. Stefano’s visible eye rolls back in his head, and his body is shaking under Sebastian’s hands. Panic flares up inside Sebastian. This is all wrong. This doesn’t make any sense, but it is playing out right in front of him.

“Stay with me, Stefano. It’s going to be alright.”

He’s not sure things are going to be alright at all, because now there are large drops of fresh blood falling onto his hands and forearms. He moves Stefano’s hair aside, and sure enough, blood is streaming out of the empty socket where his eye used to be. Stefano’s mouth is open now, and he gasps for air, making a noise that sends a chill down Sebastian’s spine.

“No!” Sebastian mutters, talking more to himself than to Stefano now. “No, this is not happening.”

The fog is gathering closer around them. He grits his teeth and gathers Stefano in his arms, easing him down onto the pavement so that he’s not in danger of falling so far. Stefano is still convulsing, limbs jerking about seemingly at random as his back arches. Each movement makes Sebastian’s stomach turn over, but between them Stefano is limp and unresponsive, which is just as terrifying.

Sebastian’s medical training tells him to treat the wound, to apply pressure until the bleeding stops, but there’s no wound to treat. He tries to wipe away some of the blood to get a better look, but Stefano’s eye socket looks just as it did before, and now the blood is coming in greater and greater spurts, surging out onto Stefano’s cheek and down his body almost in time with the pounding of Sebastian’s own heart. It soaks the front of Stefano’s shirt and jacket and it’s all over Sebastian’s arms where they are wrapped around Stefano’s chest. Sebastian can hardly breathe, can hardly think, can only hold Stefano and murmur reassurances he is now certain are lies.

“I’m here, Stefano. It’s going to be okay.” His voice is tight, strained, and there are tears sliding down his face, starting to mix with the blood that coats both of them. Stefano has almost stopped moving. There is an occasional twitch or gasp or sputtering noise, but otherwise nothing.

Sebastian is still talking. He doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re still going to get out of here. I’m not going to leave you behind.” He’s not sure whether he’s talking to Stefano or to himself.

The fog is thicker than ever. Stefano has gone deathly still in his arms. His skin is pale, almost grey, and the flow of blood is slowing down. Sebastian can barely see through his tears, can barely speak because his throat is so tight, but he tries anyway.

“Stefano?”

His hand brushes Stefano’s face, then dips down below his jawline to feel for a pulse. When he doesn’t find one, he presses harder, adjusts the position of his fingers over and over again, because Stefano can’t be dead. He and Stefano are going to get out of here together. He promised. He promised to keep Stefano safe the same way he promised to keep Lily safe, and after a life of broken promises, he is damn sure going to keep at least one of them.

“Stefano,” he sobs, letting himself slump forward over Stefano so that their faces are inches apart. He’s not feeling for a pulse anymore, but his hand gently caresses Stefano’s face. Stefano can’t feel it, and Stefano’s skin is already starting to feel cold the way Lily’s did back in her room, and that only makes Sebastian cry harder.

“Stefano,” he whispers. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t think I can do this by myself.” His voice breaks, and he pulls Stefano’s body close to his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I let you down.”

He isn’t sure how long he sits there, holding Stefano in his arms and whispering apologies, pleas, words of comfort. Maybe it is only minutes. Maybe he has been here for days. He doesn’t know, but when he finally tears himself away from Stefano’s body, when he finally lays him gently on the ground and rises to his feet, his hand comes to rest quite naturally on his revolver.

It can’t be accidental either, because his fingers are wrapping around the handle and he is drawing it out of the holster like he’s done a thousand times before. He was already close to the edge. He’s been close to the edge for weeks, maybe months. He was right at the edge when he pulled into the overlook parking lot outside Silent Hill, and now he’s back there again.

He can see the chasm yawing open before him, just like the ones Silent Hill creates to control them, and he can feel the open air under the toe of his boot, just like he did before. It would take so little to lean forward and let himself fall. Hell, it might happen on its own if he just did nothing. It would be easy, and his pain would be gone.

He’s having a hard time thinking of reasons not to. Lily is dead, and Myra is gone, and Joseph is missing. Diego has been dead for years, and now Stefano is lying at his feet, cold and lifeless. He’s in no better place than he was before he came to Silent Hill, and in fact, he’s now seen yet another life ripped out of this world right in front of him.

He’s not even aware that he’s raised the gun until the barrel touches the skin of his temple, and even then, it feels right, natural for it to be there. His finger starts to squeeze the trigger, as he unconsciously braces himself for what comes next. Just a little more and then...

He freezes, finger still on the trigger, but unable to pull it, because he is so forcibly reminded of the last time, of the click of Stefano’s camera, of turning around and seeing Stefano, and even though he was a stranger at the time, the memory feels warmer now after all the hours he and Stefano have spent together.

That’s what gives him pause, what keeps him frozen in place like this. He was in despair at the state of his life when he came to Silent Hill, and he would have said that the only thing waiting for him was death, but against all odds, he did meet Stefano and he did feel genuine affection for Stefano and unless he is very much mistaken Stefano also felt genuine affection for him.

His mind is reeling, but the only coherent thought he can come up with is that even when he was that low, things did, somehow, in Silent Hill’s weird, twisted way, get better, and if that happened before he can’t rule out the possibility that it could happen again. He met Stefano, and he fell for Stefano when he had utterly given up on everything, and maybe- just maybe- there is someone out there who he will be able to care for again, who will be able to care for him again.

The darker thoughts push back, tightening his finger on the trigger, urging him forward into the pit, but he fights, stands his ground, forces his finger to unclench. He’s not entirely sure what he wants, and he’s definitely not convinced that things are going to be okay, but he does know he wants to be there to see another day. Even if it’s possible things are going to get even worse, he wants to take that chance. It paid off last time, and maybe it can pay off again.

As he has the thought, he feels a surge of strength, of control, and he jerks the gun away from his head, throwing it to the ground with more force than he intended, but immensely relieved to be in control again. The gun skitters away across the pavement out of sight into the fog.

His heart is pounding, and he drops to his knees next to Stefano’s body...except that Stefano’s body isn’t there anymore. He glances quickly from side to side, but the fog is thicker than ever now, and he can hardly see more than a foot in any direction. He needs to see Stefano again, to touch Stefano again, even if it’s just his body, because Stefano has given him so much strength, has helped him to survive the trials of this town, and he is going to need just a little bit more of that strength if he’s going to make it out.

He feels around on the ground in front of him, and there is no chasm, but also no Stefano- only cold, empty pavement. He is about to give up looking when a warm hand lands on his shoulder and a familiar voice reaches his ear.

“Sebastian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Temporary character "death" and suicidal thoughts in this chapter.


	34. Golden Hour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I still don't have a final chapter count, we're definitely wrapping things up now. There will be at least a few more chapters of recovery and relationship development, but we're getting close to the end. Thanks everyone for reading and hope you are having a nice weekend!

Time stops for Stefano.

The explosion, the swirling sand, the shouting voices are still there, but they are in some dim, unexplored part of his consciousness, like a half-remembered dream or a TV set playing in another room. He is standing upright, which is odd, because the last thing he remembers is diving forward in the desert, on the battlefield, diving forward to save Andre even though he knows Andre can’t be saved.

There is pavement under his feet, and the swirling sand is becoming lighter, more transparent, until it is no longer sand that surrounds him- it’s fog. The events of the last few hours, or maybe the last few days, come crashing back down on him. He is in Silent Hill. He is looking for Sebastian, and the fog...the fog seems to be clearing. There are rays of sunlight trying to force their way through, and with every passing moment he can see a little more of what is around him.

There is a figure up ahead, kneeling down on the pavement, and he starts forward, his heart pounding in his chest, because he knows that silhouette, knows the slope of those shoulders that hold the weight of the world on them, knows the pain, the sorrow in every movement this man makes as he feels around on the ground in front of him.

He is there with his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder before he even thinks to speak.

“Sebastian.”

Sebastian turns around, and their eyes meet for a second before Sebastian launches himself forward, wrapping his arms around Stefano’s waist and holding him tightly, face pressed against Stefano’s hip.

“Stefano,” Sebastian gasps, voice muffled by Stefano’s clothing. “Stefano, I’m so sorry. I tried- I just couldn’t do anything. I-”

“Shhh,” Stefano whispers, resting a hand on Sebastian’s head, because Sebastian is holding him so tightly he can’t do much else. He doesn’t know what has upset Sebastian, and of course here in Silent Hill it could be any number of things, but this one seems to involve him specifically, which makes him feel some sense of responsibility for Sebastian’s pain.

“It’s alright, Sebastian,” Stefano stays, but he’s fairly certain Sebastian can’t hear him.

Sebastian is still speaking, babbling actually, and Stefano doesn’t catch very much of it except for his name and a string of apologies interspersed with gasps and sobs. He is still clinging to Stefano, too caught up in his own misery to listen to anything Stefano is saying, so Stefano takes hold of his arms and, with some effort, manages to pry them loose so that he can kneel down as well to embrace Sebastian fully.

It doesn’t help him understand what Sebastian is saying at all, but it does seem to give Sebastian some comfort. Once Stefano is down on the ground with him, Sebastian throws his arms around him and starts sobbing into his shirtfront again, and Stefano can only hold him and rub his back and murmur reassurances.

The fog is growing even thinner now, and Stefano spots Sebastian’s revolver on the ground several feet away from them. It seems like an odd location for it, especially if Sebastian felt the need to draw it in the first place. There doesn’t seem to be any danger nearby, and Stefano can only hope that Sebastian will be able to explain it to him once he can speak normally again. In the meantime, Stefano holds him and comforts him and hopes that he has enough strength left to compose himself.

Finally, Sebastian stops trying to speak, and his sobs have calmed enough that his breathing is returning to normal. Stefano turns to press a long, slow kiss to Sebastian’s brow, which is still furrowed with concern but feels warm under his lips.

“Now,” he says, making an effort to keep his voice calm and measured in hopes that Sebastian will follow suit. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“You were dead,” Sebastian says immediately, voice still muffled by Stefano’s shirtfront. “You were bleeding and dying right in front of me, and I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t...I’m so sorry.”

His words end in another sob, and Stefano holds him close.

“It’s alright,” Stefano soothes. “It wasn’t real- just the town playing another trick on you.”

Sebastian nods and sniffs loudly, and Stefano wonders if ‘trick’ is really the right word for this kind of situation. It’s more like the town is doing its best to torture them and break their minds beyond repair, but that seems a little too dark to bring up right now. It’s also interesting to him that apparently now the town has decided to use him to torment Sebastian the same way it used Lily and Joseph and Diego, and that’s...something. He doesn’t want to speculate too much about what that could mean, doesn’t want to get his hopes up too much, but clearly the town used his image to get a rise out of Sebastian and it worked.

“I know,” Sebastian says with another sniff. “I know, and I should have known before.” He loosens his grip on Stefano and pulls back to look him in the eye, though he is still firmly holding his shoulders. “You weren’t really you. You didn’t remember anything, and I couldn’t figure out what was going on.”

Stefano lets his hands run up and down Sebastian’s sides. “I’m here now,” he says, doing his best to be reassuring even in a situation where neither of them has any idea what they might face next. “And I remember everything.”

Sebastian nods, and Stefano turns to the other pressing matter on his mind.

“What is your gun doing over there?” He nods to the revolver lying on the pavement.

Sebastian glances over at it before looking back at Stefano. “I threw it down,” he says. “It was after you died.” He shakes his head. “I thought I had broken my promise to you, and I thought I was going to be alone again, and I just...couldn’t. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I didn’t want to do any of it anymore, and I took out the gun to-” He takes a deep breath. “To take care of things. You know, like I was going to do back at the overlook when I first met you.”

Stefano draws his breath in sharply, because even though he might have once regarded Sebastian’s possible suicide with casual artistic interest, that is no longer the case. There is a cold hand twisting at his insides at just the thought of Sebastian doing something like that.

“But I didn’t,” Sebastian adds quickly, and Stefano breathes a sigh of relief. “I couldn’t. We’ve come so far, and we’ve fought through so much, and it just...it all has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Stefano agrees, because even if he isn’t sure exactly what message the town is trying to send, all of this does have to mean something. Everything in Silent Hill is too carefully constructed, too specific to his and Sebastian’s own experiences to be random. “Yes, it does have to mean something, and I am very glad you are still here to help me figure it out.”

This time it is Stefano who pulls Sebastian tightly against him, who holds on for dear life, because he is suddenly acutely aware of how close Sebastian was to ending it all, to falling right into the trap the town set for him, and the relief at being able to hold Sebastian in his arms surges through him. Sebastian hugs him back, and they just hold each other for a moment, presumably each lost in their own thoughts.

“What about you?” Sebastian asks after a few seconds have passed. “What happened to you after the last time we talked on the radio? You sounded kind of strange.”

Stefano releases Sebastian and pulls back to check his pockets, because it has suddenly occurred to him that he’s not even certain he has his radio. Sure enough, he finds only his camera.

“I must have dropped it,” he says. He casts back in his memory, but he doesn’t have any recollection of doing anything with the radio after the last time he talked to Sebastian.

“I was in the desert again,” he continues. “On the battlefield, just before the grenade went off.”

Sebastian’s face takes on a strained expression. “Why do you think it keeps taking you back there?”

Stefano sighs, because there is potentially a lot to explain here, and he’s not even sure how much of it is accurate.

“I have been thinking about that,” he says. “Or rather, the town has forced me to think about that quite a lot recently. I supposed I have some lingering feelings of guilt about how I handled that situation.”

Sebastian nods in understanding. “It’s definitely been hitting the guilt stuff pretty hard with me too, although I guess it’s not difficult to do that.”

“I suppose not,” Stefano says, because it does indeed seem like Sebastian can feel guilty about pretty much anything and does, in fact, feel guilty about many of the events from his past. There is a long pause before Sebastian speaks again.

“Do you feel like you saw what you needed to see?” he asks.

Stefano considers this for a moment. It’s an unusually introspective question to come from Sebastian, but after so much time in Silent Hill, perhaps both of them are inclined to look within themselves for some explanation about what is going on here. It’s not even so much that he saw what he needed to see as that he took the opportunity to do something different this time. He acted instead of merely observing, much like he did when he saved Sebastian in the hospital.

“Yes,” he says. “I did.” He pauses, because something else has just occurred to him. “It’s odd that you would phrase it that way actually. Before I was on the battlefield again, I spoke to Justitia- to Lady Justice,” he adds for Sebastian’s benefit. “And she told me that I was the one who needed to judge myself.”

Sebastian frowns. “That is strange,” he says, “because I definitely feel like the town is judging me.”

Stefano raises an eyebrow. “You judge yourself very harshly though. Is it not possible that the town only judges you the same way you do yourself?”

Sebastian seems to be thinking about that for a few seconds, and Stefano continues.

“She also suggested that pronouncing our own judgment had something to do with being able to leave Silent Hill.”

“What?” Sebastian says. “That’s...I don’t believe that. That makes it sound too much like we could have left all along if we just wanted to leave badly enough.”

“I do not think that was quite it,” Stefano says. He’s not entirely sure he understood everything Justitia said either, but he is trying his best to explain it Sebastian. “I think it was more that we may be trapping ourselves here...subconsciously.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I’m not sure that makes any more sense than what you said before, but I do want to get out of here.” He sighs and gets to his feet, wincing as he puts weight on his injured leg. Stefano stands as well.

Sebastian glances over at the gun lying on the pavement. “I don’t want to take it with me,” he says suddenly, just before he looks back at Stefano. “I don’t think I’d use it,” he clarifies. “I just...I just don’t want to carry it with me anymore. It’s part of my past- too much of my past.”

Stefano opens his mouth to reply, but pauses, because Sebastian’s intuition in this case has started an idea forming his mind.

“I think you are right,” he replies. “I think you should leave it here.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Stefano says, gaining confidence with every word. “You are right. It is part of another life. If you want things to change, you have to leave some things behind.”

Sebastian perks up at that. “I had to put Lily’s doll away- just a few minutes ago when we were separated. It was...weird, almost like I was losing a part of her all over again.”

Sebastian’s face clouds over, and Stefano places a hand on his arm, because he can easily imagine Sebastian getting lost in his grief again.

“You have already lost so much,” he says, forcing himself to continue even though he is sure Sebastian doesn’t want to hear what he has to say. “And none of it is going to come back. What you are deciding now is how that loss is going to affect you.”

Sebastian nods. “I guess we’ve been here so long that things are starting to make sense. Or maybe we’re just a different kind of crazy now.” He takes a deep breath and walks over to pick up the gun. “Where should I-?” he starts to say, but then he stops, looking at a place in the grass nearby.

He walks over to it, and Stefano follows to find what looks like a tiny, freshly dug grave. It’s only about one foot long by one foot wide and just about a foot deep as well. The dirt is piled up next to it, and it appears to be empty.

Sebastian looks over at him. “This is pretty strange.”

“Is it so much stranger than anything else that has happened here?” Stefano asks. It seems clear to him that the town wants them to bury something in this place, and he can’t help but feel that they are supposed to leave something behind both in acceptance of whatever they have experienced here and as payment to the town.

Sebastian crouches down and places his revolver in the grave, then looks at Stefano. “What about you?”

Stefano’s first reaction is that he doesn’t have anything that carries the kind of significance of Sebastian’s gun, but when he slips his hands into his pockets, his fingers find his camera. He draws it out, and his hands are trembling.

It feels wrong at first to place it in the hole, like he is renouncing some fundamental part of who he is, but as he looks down at it, with its dented case and cracked lens, as he considers its imperfections as a reflection of his own, he realizes that what he is leaving behind is not art, not photography. He will certainly own another camera, just as Sebastian will certainly own another gun, but here and now, he is stepping out from behind the lens and into his own life. It may be a symbolic gesture, but it’s an important one, and one that he and Sebastian need to make together.

Sebastian looks over at him. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes,” Stefano replies. “As you say, it is part of my past, a part that has controlled me for a long time, and I do not wish for it to control me any longer.”

Sebastian nods. “Okay then.”

The fog is being overtaken by the sun as he and Sebastian scoop dirt back into the grave, burying their possession and their memories- not deep enough to be wholly inaccessible, but enough, Stefano hopes, that they can escape the vicious cycles they have found themselves in, that they can begin to heal.

When they both stand up again, Stefano has to look around him to remember where they are. The fog is almost completely gone, and what looks like early morning sunlight is all around them.

“This is a nice change,” Sebastian observes. “Any idea where we’re supposed to go now?”

“Home,” Stefano says, and Sebastian laughs.

“I’m right there with you,” he says, “but I think a lot of that depends on Silent Hill.”

Stefano isn’t so sure. There is a heaviness in his chest, a sense of nostalgia, of finality that makes him almost certain their adventure is drawing to a close, and he isn’t sure whether he is pleased about that or not. On one hand, he very much wants to leave this nightmarish town, but on the other, his life before he came to Silent Hill was rather empty. He enjoys his work of course, but since Andre there has been no one who inspires any of his other passions, and he has spent far too many days and nights with no company but his own thoughts.

He looks at Sebastian, whose mood seems to be much improved by the change in weather, and wonders if Sebastian’s affection for him extends beyond escaping Silent Hill. He has promised, many times in fact, that they would get out together, but what does he intend to happen after that? Stefano is afraid to ask, afraid to learn the answer. Surely it won’t hurt to put off this conversation a little longer.

Sebastian leads the way back to the path and starts down it. Stefano has no sense of direction anymore, and there are no buildings around them he can use to orient himself, so he has no idea if they are heading back toward the town or away from it, and perhaps it doesn’t matter. The sun is warming his skin, and he is walking with Sebastian, and he tries to enjoy that, tries not to ruin things by dwelling on what might happen next.

“I meant to say ‘thank you’ before,” Sebastian says, seemingly out nowhere.

“Why?” Stefano asks, curiosity overtaking his more melancholy thoughts.

“Because you were the reason I didn’t go through with it,” Sebastian says, and Stefano realizes he is referring to his most recent brush with suicide. “I mean, I guess not you literally,” Sebastian says, “but the idea that there could be someone like you.” He stops, giving his head a little shake in apparent frustration. “I’m explaining this really badly, but I just...I was alone for so long, and I guess I thought I was going to be alone forever, and I’m just really glad I met you.”

Stefano can’t help but smile at Sebastian’s heartfelt, if rather disorganized declaration of his feelings.

“I am glad I met you as well,” he says.

Sebastian is giving him a hard stare. “You don’t look too glad right now,” he observes. “What’s wrong?”

Stefano had thought he was doing a better job hiding his darker thoughts, but there’s no use denying them now.

“It’s nothing really,” he says, trying to deflect. He wants to enjoy the time he has left with Sebastian as much as possible.

“It definitely looks like something,” Sebastian presses.

Stefano heaves a sigh, because Sebastian is apparently not going to let this go. “If we did succeed, and if we are going to escape from Silent Hill, I am going to miss your company.”

Sebastian stops walking and turns to face Stefano, taking him by the arms. “I thought we had settled this,” he says. “You’re not going to miss my company because I’m not going anywhere! I’ve meant everything I said to you the whole time we’ve been here. I care about you, and I want to be with you, and unless you tell me you don’t want me around anymore, then I’m going wherever you go.”

Sebastian’s gaze is intense, and there is a vulnerability there that forcibly reminds Stefano of how much Sebastian suffers from his own insecurities. Sebastian’s fear that Stefano is going to reject him is written all over his face, and Stefano could almost laugh, because nothing could be farther from the truth.

Relief floods his body, and he surges forward to embrace Sebastian before he knows what he’s doing. Sebastian is hugging him back, and his arms provide a warmth and security that Stefano feels so lucky to have found again. Somehow all of the years he has been without warmth, without affection and human contact, make this feel so much better now that it’s actually happening.

“I will be very grateful for your company for as long as you will have me,” Stefano says, his mouth very close to Sebastian’s ear.

He pulls back, but only so that he can lean in to kiss Sebastian on the mouth, and this time there is an excitement, a wild, reckless energy that flows between them. Sebastian’s tongue is in his mouth, and Sebastian’s hands are squeezing his hips, and when they break apart for a breath, Sebastian rests his forehead against Stefano’s and murmurs, “I’d like to have you right now,” in a low, gruff voice that sends little thrills of arousal all through Stefano’s body.

Sebastian is so close, and he smells like the battlefield, like blood and sweat and gunpowder, and for a moment Stefano is perfectly suspended between his past and his future before he leans forward to kiss Sebastian again.

The second kiss is just as deep and intimate and perfect as the first one, and when Stefano finally pulls away from the heat of Sebastian’s mouth, when he gets a look at the intensity of Sebastian’s eyes, he is sure that Sebastian might be acting on his earlier inclinations if they weren’t so unprotected and also in a town that seems to be determined to kill them.

“There will be time for that later,” Stefano says with a hint of a smile. He slips his hand into Sebastian’s and they turn to continue walking down the path.

Stefano knows the exact moment the pavement under his feet turns into the soft earth of the wooded trail, knows the exact moment the trees begin to close in around them on all sides, because he and Sebastian exchange a look. Neither one of them speaks, but Stefano is sure Sebastian must be thinking the same thing as him. They can’t be sure of course, but this looks very much like the trail back to the overlook where they left their cars.

It’s a pleasant walk through the woods with Sebastian, and one that Stefano is fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to take without a good reason. After all, when he was alone in Silent Hill, the only time he was ever able to find the trail back to overlook was when he went there to meet Sebastian, so surely the fact they can take it now must mean something.

He and Sebastian exchange another look when the overlook parking lot comes into view. There is a cautious excitement in Sebastian’s eyes, and Stefano feels the same emotion rising up inside of him. It’s still possible their cars won’t start. It’s still possible they are cut off from the rest of the world by some jagged open pit, but this is the closest they’ve been to escape in such a long time.

“Do you think it’s going to work?” Sebastian says quietly as they step off the trail and into the parking lot again, almost as if he’s afraid speaking too loudly will break whatever spell they are under and send them right back into the heart of Silent Hill.

“I do not know,” Stefano says, reaching into his interior coat pocket for his car key, “but there is only one way to find out.”

He pulls the key from his pocket, and Sebastian nods. The walk to his car can’t be more than fifty feet, but it feels surreal, almost as if it is happening in slow motion. He opens the driver’s side door, leans over to put the key in the ignition, and turns it.

The engine roars to life.


	35. Scarred

The tires squeal against the pavement as Stefano takes off. Sebastian’s heart is in his throat at the possibility that they’re actually going to get out of Silent Hill, but the car has only made it to the entrance of the parking lot when Stefano hits the brakes. Sebastian is about to ask him what the hell he thinks he’s doing, but Stefano turns to him.

“Do you need anything from your car?” he asks. Judging by the sound of his voice, he is as tightly wound as Sebastian. “I am not certain we will be able to come back.”

“No,” Sebastian says quickly. “It’s not even my car. It’s a rental. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

Stefano obliges, and they peel out of the parking lot and onto the deserted highway. It’s daylight now, and there’s a soft, early morning look to the environment, but Sebastian’s eyes are fixed on the road. Even though they’ve been successful so far, he doesn’t trust Silent Hill not to throw another obstacle in their way, and he is terrified they’re going to come up against another deep chasm in the road.

Stefano must be thinking the same thing, because he’s driving pretty conservatively for someone fleeing from a town of ghosts and nightmares, and when Sebastian glances over at him, Stefano’s gaze is trained on the road ahead of them.

Sebastian doesn’t speak at first, somehow afraid that giving voice to his thoughts might turn them into reality. He’s also pretty sure he’s been holding his breath for almost a half-mile before he slowly lets it out.

“Do you think we’re going to make it?” he asks Stefano. Then, before Stefano even has a chance to answer, he adds, “Where are we going anyway?”

“To a hotel I suppose,” Stefano replies. “My home is almost a ten hour drive from here. Unless there is somewhere else you know-”

“No,” Sebastian cuts him off. “There’s nowhere.”

Even if his mood and outlook on life have changed quite a bit during his time in Silent Hill, he can’t deny the situation he is in here in the real world. He poured all of his time and resources and energy into searching for Myra, into investigating Mobius, and when he failed in both of those missions, he poured all of his time and resources and energy into destroying himself with alcohol and cigarettes. He has no home, no car, no job, and no family. He doesn’t belong anywhere.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” he adds.

“Then you are going with me,” Stefano says simply. “And we are going to a hotel to get some rest before we decide what to do next.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says. It’s a small thing, but it feels nice to have someone else make some decisions for a change. A tiny bit of the weight he’s been carrying is lifted from his shoulders, and he relaxes into his seat a little more as Stefano continues to drive.

Sebastian feels pathetic for even having the thought, but part of the reason Stefano’s words have such an impact on him is that it’s been a long time since somebody actually wanted him around. His last close relationship was with Joseph, and since then he can’t think of anyone who gives a shit what happens to him.

He wonders idly what would have happened to him if he hadn’t come to Silent Hill that night that now seems so long ago. Would he have ever met Stefano? Would he have ever met anyone like Stefano? If the town’s purpose was to torment him, it seems strange that something truly good would have come out of it, but that certainly seems to be what’s happening here. Or maybe that was the town’s purpose all along and it works in very mysterious ways.

He’s lost in thought when his hand reaches out reflexively to turn on the car radio. The ensuing burst of static is so loud he jumps several inches out of his seat, and beside him Stefano does the same.

“Holy shit!” he practically shouts, switching the radio off immediately. “What the hell?”

“I don’t know,” Stefano shoots back, sounding rather agitated himself. “It was tuned in to a station when I left it.”

Just like that, the brief moment of peace is shattered, and Sebastian is rigid in his seat, teeth gritted and eyes fixed on the road. Maybe it’s nothing- just a weird coincidence or an interruption in radio signal because they’re out here in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe it’s a message from the town. Maybe the town can reach them even here.

“Stefano…” he begins, and he can hear the tension in his own voice. “How far away do you think it can get to us?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Stefano says, and his tight grip on the steering wheel echoes the tension Sebastian feels in his own muscles. “And I do not know. I received the letter from Andre at my home, so I am not sure geographical distance matters at all.”

“Jesus,” Sebastian breathes. “So you think it could all start up again one day? Just…?” He gestures wildly in the air with his hand, not even sure himself what he’s trying to convey.

“I don’t know,” Stefano says. “But if it really was something about us, something inside of us that brought us there and kept us there, then it is certainly possible that same thing could bring us back.” He shudders. “I do not wish to think about it anymore right now.”

Sebastian nods. “Me either.”

He reaches across the console to place a hand on Stefano’s thigh. Even this small amount of physical contact makes him feel a little calmer, a little farther from the horrors of Silent Hill, and it must be working for Stefano too, because his face is relaxing slightly and his grip on the steering wheel is looser.

They drive for another thirty or forty minutes through rolling countryside with no sign of human habitation, and Sebastian is starting to become a little suspicious of that, but of course he can’t remember how inhabited this area was when he drove into it in the first place. Honestly, looking back on that night, he’s shocked and a little horrified about the fact that he got behind the wheel when he was so intoxicated. He’s lucky he didn’t kill himself or someone else just trying to drive.

He is beginning to wonder if they’re still in some kind of parallel dimension when a sign comes into view up ahead. It’s not the large commercial billboards he’s used to. This sign is hand-painted and advertises Poole’s Motor Lodge, which is apparently fifteen miles ahead.

He and Stefano exchange a meaningful look before Stefano directs his attention back to the road. Sebastian is pretty sure Stefano is thinking the same thing he is.

“What are the chances we’re going to get murdered if we stop at this place?” he asks.

Stefano’s mouth turns up in a smile, but he doesn’t actually laugh, and Sebastian can’t blame him. Based on the isolation of the highway and the look of the sign, he’s only halfway convinced he’s joking himself.

“I do not know,” Stefano replies, “but I can tell you the odds are good I will fall asleep at the wheel if we try to go much farther.”

“Fair point,” Sebastian says. He does consider for a moment whether he should offer to drive, but a quick self-assessment tells him he doesn’t have much more than another hour in him, and who knows when they’ll come across another place they can rest for any length of time. They could always just pull over and sleep in the car, but that doesn’t sound nearly as appealing as an actual bed, even one at a creepy roadside inn.

“Poole’s Motor Lodge, it is then,” he adds, and Stefano nods in agreement.

Poole’s Motor Lodge turns out to be less creepy than the sign suggests it would be, though it is still very remote and a little run-down. The sullen-looking teenage kid behind the desk takes Stefano’s credit card and carbon copies it in a way Sebastian hasn’t seen done in a long time, and then gives them an actual key that has a plastic tag with their room number on it.

Sebastian has, of course, been to a few motels like this in his time, but it brings on a feeling of nostalgia nonetheless. He’s pretty sure he and Myra ended up staying at a place like this on one of their first trips together, and just for a moment there is a twinge in his chest, but then Stefano is leading the way out of the office and Sebastian is following, heartened by the fact that he isn’t here alone and hopeful that maybe he and Stefano can have some time to recuperate.

Stefano grabs a small suitcase from the trunk, and Sebastian wonders for a moment if maybe he shouldn’t have stopped to get some of his things out of the rental car. Even now though, it feels like it would have been wrong to spend one more second in Silent Hill than they absolutely had to. He can buy new stuff, but for all he knows that was their only chance to escape.

The room is small but decently clean, and the two double beds take up most of it. Sebastian is pretty sure Stefano didn’t ask for this arrangement, so apparently the kid at the desk assumed they wanted to sleep separately. Stefano sets his suitcase down on one of the beds and stretches his arms above his head.

“Do you want to shower?” he asks.

The idea of a shower hadn’t even occurred to Sebastian, who is about one second away from collapsing into bed, but now that Stefano mentions it, it has been quite a while since he had one, and he can’t imagine that he smells too good right now.

“Yeah,” he says, “I guess I should. Unless you want to go first?”

“No,” Stefano says, “go ahead. You may use my toiletries if you wish.” He unzips the suitcase and hands a small toiletry bag to Sebastian.

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, heading into the bathroom. He turns to close the door behind him, but his hand freezes in midair as he reaches for it. All of his instincts are screaming at him not to close the door, not to separate himself from Stefano.

He steps back out into the room.

“This is going to sound really stupid,” he says, “but is it alright if I leave the door open?”

“Of course,” Stefano replies.

“I just…” he begins, but is unable to find the words to explain himself.

Stefano nods. “I understand, and I will be right here.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, returning to the bathroom. He feels a little sheepish about his lingering fear of being separated from Stefano, but at least Stefano gets it. Stefano was there with him in Silent Hill, and Stefano knows the risk separation posed to both of them there.

He starts the shower water running and begins to undress, but catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and has to stop to look closer. He barely recognizes himself and not in a good way. He looks rougher, more beaten-down than he’s ever looked in his life, and if he looked like this when he met Stefano back at the overlook, he’s lucky Stefano didn’t run away from him.

He scrubs at his eyes with his hands as though maybe that will change his image in the mirror, but of course it doesn’t, and he can only shake his head and go back to undressing. He removes his shirt, then peeks underneath the bandage Stefano applied to his arm after he cut it trying to get into the hardware store. His intention is to gauge whether it’s safe to wash it or whether he’s going to have to try to shower without getting it wet, but he can’t see the wound at all.

He lifts the bandage up more, then removes it completely, because there is literally no wound there to see and no sutures either. There is only a jagged pink scar where the wound used to be, and he can even see the small scars from where the suturing was done on either side of the wound, but everything looks like it’s been healed up for months.

His head is starting to spin a little, and his first thought is to wonder just how long they were in Silent Hill, which only makes his head spin more. His second thought is to remove his pants and the bandage on his leg to get a look at the other wound. This one, too, is only a scar, quite similar in shape to the ones he has from other bullet wounds. It appears a little fresher than the one on his arm, but there’s still no way it should be as healed as it is.

“Stefano,” he calls, starting out of the bathroom again. He almost stops when he realizes he is only wearing his underwear, but then he remembers Stefano has seen him in much less than this, and besides, he needs to show this to Stefano to confirm he’s not going crazy.

Stefano is seated on the bed. Fatigue is etched into every line of his face, but he looks up at Sebastian with interest.

“Look,” Sebastian says, pointing to his leg then his arm.

Stefano does look, then frowns and stands up, approaching Sebastian for a closer inspection.

“How…?” he begins to say. He reaches out to gently brush his fingers along the scar on Sebastian’s arm, and Sebastian shivers, because whether it’s the scar tissue or just the fact that it’s Stefano, his skin is so sensitive that Stefano’s touch leaves goosebumps in its wake.

“I don’t know,” Sebastian replies, “but it’s healed up.” He pauses, then gestures to Stefano’s midsection. “What about yours?”

The look on Stefano’s face makes it clear that he had forgotten until now he was injured as well. He quickly slips off his jacket and untucks his shirt, lifting it up to reveal a small scar where Sebastian did his impromptu surgery.

The urge to reach out and touch Stefano’s scar the way Stefano did to his is almost overpowering, but Sebastian stops himself. There’s no reason to do it, except that he just wants to touch Stefano, but there’s also no reason to think Stefano would appreciate that right now. Before he can figure out what is going on in his head, the moment has passed.

Stefano lets his shirt fall back into place and looks at Sebastian, shaking his head slowly. “How long were we there?” he says, voice filled with trepidation.

Sebastian shrugs. He has no answers, and none of this makes sense at all. Aside from their single coffee break, he doesn’t remember eating or drinking anything the entire time they were in Silent Hill, so it seems like they couldn’t have been there for very long, but the scars suggest otherwise.

Stefano turns and walks quickly to the bedside table, picking up his phone, which is plugged in there, apparently charging. “This can’t be right,” he says, frowning at the screen. “According to my phone, it has only been one day.”

“One day since you got there?” Sebastian asks for clarity, since that would mean it’s been even less time that he was in Silent Hill himself.

“Yes,” Stefano says, “but I don’t see how…”

He sinks down onto the bed, shoulders slumping as he sets the phone aside. He looks so confused and dispirited that Sebastian takes a seat next to him, placing a hand on his back.

“Look, I don’t know how to explain it,” he begins, “but time was sort of fluid in STEM too. I mean, you couldn’t tell how much time was passing in the real world when you were in there. It was really disorienting- kind of like waking up from a really long, involved dream.”

Stefano nods. “The experience feels as though it was very significant, but I am not sure how significant it can truly be if it was so subjective.”

“Hey,” Sebastian says, rubbing Stefano’s back a little. “It was definitely significant. I know- I was there.”

Stefano smiles at that. “Indeed, you were,” he says. “Now you had better go and take that shower. The water is still running.”

“Good call,” Sebastian says, “but you have to promise not to get too wrapped up in your own mind while I’m in there.”

“I promise,” Stefano says with another smile. “I have no desire to end up back in Silent Hill.”

Sebastian returns to the bathroom, strips off his underwear, and steps into the shower. The hot water is soothing to his sore muscles, and it seems like several days worth of dirt and grime is running off of his body and down the drain, but he still can’t shake what Stefano said.

The way he sees it, there are three options. One is that Silent Hill is a real, physical place that anyone can go to, and anyone unfortunate enough to drive down the same deserted highway or stop at the same overlook parking lot would be subjected to the same experience he and Stefano had, or at least something like it. The second is that Silent Hill is a real, physical place, but one that can only be accessed by people in a certain frame of mind- or at least, one that appears very differently to different people depending on their respective mental states.

The third, and he shudders as the idea forms in his brain, is that Silent Hill isn’t located in time and space at all, that it is completely linked to a state of mind, and that he and Stefano are going to be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives, constantly questioning the reality of their circumstances and doubting the world around them. Of course, that’s not too different from how it was the first few weeks out of STEM, so maybe it’s the kind of thing one can get used to given enough time.

He washes his hair and body, noting that Stefano’s soap and shampoo are quite a bit fancier than anything he would buy for himself, though Stefano does seem to be a bit more sophisticated than he is, so maybe it’s not that surprising. When he is finished, he spends a few more minutes just standing in the shower letting the hot water beat down on him, but he can’t enjoy it for too long, because the nagging fear of being separated from Stefano is still in the back of his mind.

He turns off the water, grabs a towel and dries off a little before he sticks his head out the bathroom door to make sure Stefano is still there. Apparently he’s pretty transparent in his motivation, because Stefano glances up at him.

“Not going anywhere,” he says.

Sebastian laughs, stepping back into the bathroom to finish drying off. “Had to check,” he calls back. “Still having some separation anxiety.”

When he returns to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, Stefano hands him a pair of boxer briefs. “I am not sure whether the rest of my clothes will fit you,” he says, “but you should be able to wear these.”

“Thanks,” Sebastian says, because until this moment it had not occurred to him that the only clothes he has to his name are the ones he just removed. “Hopefully they have laundry here. My clothes are pretty gross.”

Stefano nods in agreement, then disappears into the bathroom himself. Sebastian can’t help but notice that he doesn’t shut the door either.

He pulls on the boxer briefs, which are a little snug on him but still definitely wearable and a huge improvement on the underwear he just took off, and turns down the covers of one of the beds. Even though it’s probably only midmorning, the exhaustion is starting to hit him.

Silent Hill was quite an ordeal in itself, and he wasn’t exactly doing a great job taking care of himself before that. Now it’s as though every ache and pain he has is suddenly making itself known all at once. Every muscle and joint feels overworked, and even staying upright seems like far too much effort. He collapses into bed, pulling the covers over him, and closes his eyes, but the instant he does so, he is back on the streets of Silent Hill with their deserted buildings and thick fog.

His eyes snap open and his body jerks reflexively, but of course he’s still here in bed at the motel, and obviously his brain is just overtired and a little confused. His heart is pounding, but the only danger here is in his mind. He takes in his surroundings, reminds himself he’s not in Silent Hill anymore, and tries again with exactly the same result. The imagery from Silent Hill is there, just as vivid as if it were real, and each time it is just as terrifying as the first.

He settles for staring at the ceiling until Stefano comes back.

“Are you alright?” he asks, giving Sebastian a quizzical look as he pulls on his own pair of underwear.

“Not really,” Sebastian says. “I’m so fucking tired, but every time I close my eyes I’m right back there.”

Stefano doesn’t even bother to ask him where ‘there’ is. He turns out the lights, though the daylight is still filtering in faintly around the curtains, and comes to the other side of the bed Sebastian is lying in.

“Do you mind if I share with you?” he asks.

“Please,” Sebastian says. He is vaguely aware that sharing a bed with Stefano might put them into an awkward situation at some point in the future, but right now he is alone, adrift at sea, and Stefano is a life preserver. He reaches for him, pulls him close in an instinctive, desperate way that he’s sure is not romantic at all, and buries his face in Stefano’s shoulder as Stefano tries to adjust his position to create a more comfortable arrangement.

Sebastian can’t even process whether he’s physically comfortable or not, but he’s sure as hell not letting go of Stefano. When he closes his eyes this time, the fog doesn’t return.


	36. Composition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexual content in this chapter.

_ Stefano opens his eye, unsure of where he is at first until the blank, concrete ceiling of the barracks swims into view. It is not an unusual sight by any means. He has awakened here many times, though usually he is not nearly as comfortable as he is now. _

_ There are warm arms around him, and his cheek is resting on someone’s chest, rising and falling gently as they breathe, but something still feels off about the situation. He lifts his head, props himself up on his elbow, and turns to find himself face to face with Andre. _

_ Andre’s smile is relaxed, confident, the way it always was. Andre could put him at ease with just a look, be it in a life-and-death situation on the battlefield or trying something new in bed, and that look is in his eyes right now. It entices Stefano, draws him in, and before he knows it, Stefano is running a hand along his chest, trembling with the excitement of being so close to someone, of being able to touch someone. _

_ “Be careful.” Andre’s voice comes out hushed, just above a whisper, the way he used to speak when they would sneak off to the barracks together, stealing moments away from their unit and away from the war. Stefano isn’t sure what he means, but he has always been careful with Andre. His hand falters. _

_ “Of course,” he murmurs back. _

_ Andre shakes his head. “Not with me,” he says. “With him.” _

_ “What?” _

_ Stefano’s brow furrows in confusion, and he turns to look around him, suddenly concerned that there might be someone else in the room. He can’t make sense of what Andre is saying, and there’s no one else there, but even as he looks, the room is blurring, distorting, and when he tries to turn back to Andre, he finds himself alone. _

  
  
  


When Stefano opens his eye this time, he can tell he’s actually awake. For one thing, he recognizes the inside of the motel room where he and Sebastian have holed up after their escape from Silent Hill, and for another there is enough additional sensory input to support what he is seeing- the hiss of the old-fashioned radiator heating the room, the shiver that runs through him as he remembers Andre is dead, the smell of Sebastian somewhere closeby.

He turns over to see that Sebastian has rolled over and is sort of curled in on himself, back to Stefano. Despite the heat and the blankets, the room is still a little chilly, and the memories of Andre are settling into the pit of his stomach. He is as cold on the inside as he is on the outside. He briefly considers just curling up on his own, trying to soothe himself the way Sebastian is doing, but realizes that’s what they’ve both been trying to do for years, and apparently it hasn’t worked.

He scoots over until he’s directly behind Sebastian and wraps an arm around him, hoping Sebastian will be receptive to physical contact right now, because Stefano is starving for it. Sebastian shifts slightly in his arms at first, then relaxes back into him, sighing deeply as every inch of his body presses up against Stefano’s.

“Stefano?” he murmurs.

“Yes, I am here,” Stefano replies, giving Sebastian a little squeeze for emphasis. He loosens his hold so Sebastian can turn over in his arms.

For a moment, Sebastian seems to be scrutinizing him, but then Sebastian’s arms are around him, pulling him tightly against Sebastian’s body, and Stefano has to struggle to draw breath, because Sebastian is actually quite strong and is holding onto him with an intensity that seems to be more rooted in fear of losing him than in affection.

Maybe Sebastian realizes this too, because he quickly eases up. He is still holding Stefano close, but now Stefano is in far less danger of being accidentally smothered.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says. “I just...I guess I thought you wouldn’t be here when I woke up.”

Stefano wants to laugh, to tell Sebastian that’s ridiculous, but he has woken up alone so many times in the recent past- and he is sure Sebastian has as well- that Sebastian’s fear isn’t entirely unfounded. Loneliness is all too real to both of them.

“Of course,” he replies, voice slightly muffled by Sebastian’s shoulder. “I am not going to leave you.”

Just speaking those words brings a lump to his throat, because he knows how many people have left Sebastian, how many people they have both lost in their lives.

“Did you sleep okay?” Sebastian asks.

Stefano swallows down the lump, tries to leave the past behind and focus on what Sebastian is saying now, but unfortunately his past seems determined to catch up with him.

“I dreamed of Andre,” he says.

“Oh.” Sebastian sounds mildly surprised, even a little uncertain. “Was it a good dream?”

“I think so,” Stefano replies. He is a little hazy on the details now that he’s awake, but he remembers being in the barracks with Andre, touching Andre. His face flushes hot as he thinks about what might have happened if the dream had gone on a little longer, what might still happen with Sebastian…

Sebastian pulls back to look at his face.

“Oh,” he says, and this time it is with a hint of smile and his own blush. “It was  _ that  _ kind of dream.”

“I am not sure that it was,” Stefano says. He can feel that he is still blushing furiously, and he dips his head to hide it from Sebastian. “It ended before anything could happen, but it was pleasant, I suppose.”

Sebastian’s hand catches him under the chin, gently lifting his face until he meets Sebastian’s eyes.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I don’t mind you talking about him.”

“I know,” Stefano says, because Sebastian has already demonstrated that he doesn’t hold any jealousy for Andre. “But do you mind me talking about matters of…” He fumbles for the right word. “...intimacy?”

“No,” Sebastian says with a smile. “I don’t mind at all. Talking is fine. It’s the doing that gets a little complicated.”

“That’s alright,” Stefano says, taking Sebastian’s hand in his and bringing it to his mouth to place a kiss on his palm. “We can take things as slowly as you like.”

Sebastian laughs. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. If you let me take the lead, we might never get anywhere at all.”

“Do you not desire me?” Stefano asks. He has been rejected before, knows that since he returned from the war, he no longer fits the standard of beauty held by most people, but that doesn’t seem to have bothered Sebastian very much up to this point.

“No,” Sebastian says quickly. “I mean- yes, I’m definitely attracted to you. That’s not the problem.” His eyes are darting around the room, and his words come out in quick, agitated bursts. “I do have those feelings. It’s just hard for me to act on them.”

“Ah, yes,” Stefano says. “You spoke about this before.” He remembers what Sebastian told him when they were trapped on opposite sides of the elevator door, remembers the conversation they had after Sebastian kissed him in the darkroom, and he has known since then that they would have to revisit that topic at some point, though they both had much more pressing matters to attend to at the time.

“Yeah,” Sebastian says. His expression has clouded over, and he still won’t meet Stefano’s eye. “I’m sort of, you know, broken that way I guess.”

Now Stefano is reaching for Sebastian’s face, holding it between his hands. He waits for Sebastian’s gaze to meet his before he speaks.

“You are not broken,” he says. “You have experienced quite a lot in your life, both in Silent Hill and before. It is only natural for those things to affect you.”

Sebastian gives him a little smile. “You’re too kind,” he says, “but I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to give you what you want.”

“What I want right now,” Stefano says, “is to lie here with you and hold you. Do you think you can manage that?”

Sebastian’s smile gets a little wider, and Stefano feels a rush of warmth at being able to lift his spirits.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’ve got that part under control.”

He pulls Stefano flush against him, and for a few minutes, all Stefano knows is warm skin and soft puffs of Sebastian’s breath on his neck and shoulders and Sebastian’s strong arms wrapped around him. The effect of all of this is quite...stimulating, and before long, Stefano has realized that what he wants right now may be a little more involved than simple cuddling.

Every exhale against his skin makes him shiver, and he can’t help but imagine those strong arms, those strong hands doing other things to him. The warmth and the smell of Sebastian is all around him, and his body is pressed right up against Sebastian’s, and Sebastian has to be able to feel how hard he is getting just from this.

Stefano doesn’t think he’s entirely alone in his arousal, because Sebastian’s breathing is getting a little heavier, a little more uneven, and now instead of simply holding Stefano, his hands are moving up and down his back, leaving warmth and excitement in their wake. Stefano is doing his best to stay calm for Sebastian’s sake, but when Sebastian’s hand comes to rest at the small of his back, his hips reflexively press forward, bringing his now-unmistakeable erection into much firmer contact with Sebastian.

Sebastian gasps, and Stefano is about to apologize, but Sebastian’s hands are on his hips, pulling him even harder against Sebastian and putting exquisite pressure where he needs it the most.

His arms are around Sebastian’s shoulders, and he forces out through gritted teeth, “Sebastian.”

“Is this-” Sebastian says, pulling Stefano hard against him for emphasis and drawing another gasp from Stefano’s throat. “Is this because of me?”

Stefano wants to tell Sebastian that of course it’s because of him, that Sebastian is a fool for thinking his current state of arousal could be related to anything else, but he isn’t sure how deep Sebastian’s insecurities run, and even if he wanted to make a cutting remark, he isn’t sure he has the breath in his lungs to do so.

“Yes,” he groans, still clinging to Sebastian. “Yes, please, Sebastian…”

He isn’t even sure what he’s asking for, but he knows he wants more of Sebastian, and if Sebastian has any reservations about what they’re doing, they don’t seem to be affecting him at the moment. Sebastian’s mouth is on him, and Sebastian is planting wet, searing kisses on his shoulder, on his neck, on his jawline, and Stefano draws back to press his lips to Sebastian’s.

The kiss alone is enough to make his heart pound and his head spin. Sebastian’s mouth is moving against his, and it’s firm and exciting but still controlled. Sebastian is clearly holding something back, and it reminds Stefano of what happened in the dark room.

He pulls back from Sebastian. “Are you alright?”

He gets a good look at Sebastian’s face for the first time, and it confirms his initial suspicions that Sebastian is aroused, though perhaps a bit conflicted in his feelings. His jaw is slack, and his pupils are dilated with lust, but there are still lines of worry etched into his face, and Stefano longs to smooth them away.

“I’m okay for now,” Sebastian assures him. “This is...different, but I’m okay.” He pauses. “What about you?”

Once again, Stefano considers informing him that this is a ridiculous question under the circumstances, but decides against it. If it really is victim statements and police reports that haunt Sebastian, it’s not unreasonable to think that he might want some reassurance about Stefano’s participation in all this.

“I am quite a bit more than okay,” Stefano says with a smile, “and I would tell you if I was not.”

Sebastian nods and leans in to kiss him again. It’s still gentle, reserved, but Sebastian’s tongue is in his mouth, and Sebastian’s hands are on his body, and even if Sebastian is still handling him with a little more care than is really necessary, at least they are making progress.

Stefano brings one leg up to wrap it around Sebastian’s hip, and presses himself forward again, sighing deeply as pleasure starts to coil low in his belly. Sebastian breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against Stefano’s as they both pant with the excitement of this new development.

Sebastian’s hand is on his hip, then on his thigh, pulling him closer, and Sebastian is murmuring words of encouragement as Stefano rubs against him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stefano has the thought that this is a little undignified, but right now it feels so good to rub up against Sebastian that he can’t bring himself to care.

It’s been so long since he’s been with anyone at all, but in particular so long since he’s been with someone he can trust, someone who already knows his darkest secrets, who accepts him, and it is beautifully liberating to know that he does not have to put on a facade when he is with Sebastian, that he can simply be.

Then Sebastian’s hand is slipping in between them, palm covering the front of his underwear, and all rational thought ceases entirely. Stefano brings a hand to his mouth, stifling a moan as Sebastian massages him through the fabric. Sebastian’s hand is large and strong, and Stefano is aching with the anticipation of feeling it on his bare skin.

He doesn’t have to wait long, because after a few strokes, Sebastian’s fingers are tickling his belly, sliding underneath the waistband of his underwear to make light, teasing strokes along the length of his cock.

“Oh god,” moans Stefano, all thoughts of taking things slow suddenly gone from his head. Sebastian is here. Sebastian is touching him, gasping and panting right along with him, and Stefano is tugging his underwear down and out of the way so that Sebastian can touch him everywhere, and he does want Sebastian to touch him everywhere. He wants to touch Sebastian as well, wants Sebastian to feel some of the pleasure he is feeling. His hand finds Sebastian’s underwear, but Sebastian’s hand catches it.

“Not right now,” Sebastian says breathlessly. “I can’t...is it alright if I just keep touching you?”

It’s more than alright, and Stefano gasps out a “yes” before collapsing back onto the pillow, turning a little to lie on his back so that Sebastian has more room to work.

Sebastian’s hand closes around his cock. The first few strokes are fumbling, uncertain, and Stefano remembers that as far as he knows this is Sebastian’s first time being with a man, but he seems to catch on quickly enough, or maybe he’s relying on what he prefers himself. Either way, Stefano has no objections as Sebastian begins to stroke him up and down, his calloused palm warm and pleasant on Stefano’s sensitive skin.

Stefano sighs deeply, letting his body move as it wishes, arching up against Sebastian’s hand and dropping back down to the bed to the rhythm of Sebastian’s strokes. It is so foreign, so exciting to feel someone else’s hand on him instead of his own, that for a few minutes he is simply lost in the excitement of it all, pressing himself back against the pillow to fight the sudden wave of dizzying lust as he realizes that the blanket and sheet have come off him entirely now, that he is completely exposed to Sebastian’s eyes and hands, and Sebastian is making good use of those hands.

Stefano’s fingers are digging into the mattress as the pressure builds, as he gets closer to the edge. Sebastian must be paying attention to his reactions, because he is much too skilled at this for a first-timer. He squeezes and strokes and tugs, and Stefano’s hips are rising up to meet his hand each time.

Stefano wants so much more, wants to feel Sebastian inside him- his fingers, his cock, anything at this point- but he waits. Sebastian is clearly enjoying himself now, and Stefano hesitates to suggest anything that Sebastian might find too strange or deviant or that simply might be too much for him right now.

Just then, Sebastian gives a deliciously firm stroke, one that sends electric ripples of pleasure all through him, and Stefano can’t suppress a moan.

“God, Stefano,” Sebastian growls. “You’re so beautiful when you-”

Sebastian’s words are lost in Stefano’s ears to the pounding of his own heart as he comes, spilling his seed across Sebastian’s hand and his own chest, and probably some other places that he’s not overly concerned with at the moment. He is awash in sensation- bright, intense bursts of pleasure running through him as Sebastian’s hand slows and stops, holding him gently as he comes down, slowly drifts back to the bed where Sebastian is now rubbing his hip.

He opens his eye to look at Sebastian, who looks mostly pleased with himself, although Stefano can see the question about to form on his lips.

“I am quite alright,” Stefano says with a lazy smile. “Much better than alright, in fact.”

Sebastian smiles and passes him a few tissues from the nightstand. “I figured,” he says, “but I had to check. I’m kind of new to this, remember.”

“I think you might be a natural,” Stefano says, wiping himself off as Sebastian wipes off his own hand.

“I don’t know about that,” Sebastian says, a blush creeping on to his face as he tosses the tissue over his shoulder, “but I’m definitely eager to learn.”

Once they are both cleaned up, Sebastian pulls the blankets back up over both of them, and Stefano dozes in his arms.


	37. Careful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestive thoughts and descriptions in this chapter, but no overtly sexual content.

When Sebastian wakes up for the second time, he’s in the dark and thoroughly disoriented. For a moment, he’s trying to wrap his mind around the idea that this doesn’t feel like his and Myra’s room at home before he realizes how ridiculous that is, because he doesn’t have a home anymore, hasn’t had one in months, and Myra is gone.

There is, however, someone draped over him, much the way Myra used to do when they slept together, and as Sebastian breathes in deeply, his memories come rushing back. The smell of Stefano’s soap- and the smell of Stefano himself- calms him and excites him all at once, brings back memories of dark, dusty hallways and terrifying monsters, but also warmth and comfort and kisses stolen in the moments between life and death struggles.

He runs a hand up and down Stefano’s back, and Stefano sighs in his sleep and snuggles closer. Sebastian can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. There is something so genuine, so unguarded about Stefano at the moment, and the fact that he is trying to get closer to Sebastian even when he isn’t aware of what he’s doing, makes Sebastian feel unexpectedly warm. He stills his hand, not wanting to wake Stefano up just yet, both because Stefano clearly needs his rest and because Sebastian has some things he needs to work through in his own mind.

He is both thrilled and a little alarmed by what they did the last time they were awake, and he can feel his cheeks flush hot as those images play back in his mind- Stefano pressing against him so eagerly, Stefano’s cock in his hand, feeling not nearly as foreign as it should have, Stefano on his back, gasping and moaning and arching up into Sebastian’s touch. It’s having a bit of a physical effect on him right now just remembering it, and it certainly had a physical effect on him at the time.

And that’s the problem. Those feelings, while pleasurable in a way, aren’t as pure as they once were, don’t bring him the same satisfaction. It’s almost the way it was back when he was a teenager, having those feelings for the first time and unsure what exactly he was supposed to do about them. He has some ideas, but the reality of acting on such feelings is so complicated and fraught with peril that he is utterly paralyzed.

His brain doesn’t even want to think about them, and he catches himself avoiding the topic entirely, forces his mind back to the task at hand, because clearly avoiding it isn’t going to do him any good.

Seeing Stefano in the throes of pleasure was exciting. He can admit that at least. And it did make him want certain things for himself, made him want Stefano to touch him the way he was touching Stefano, made him want to do even more, to explore Stefano’s body and learn what pleases him, what makes him gasp and moan and make all of those other lovely little noises Sebastian heard earlier.

Even thinking about it now makes his heart beat faster, makes the blood rush to his cock with a flush of heat, and he shifts uncomfortably from side to side. He’s close to getting hard again, but he doesn’t want to, doesn’t want his desires to sully what is otherwise a very pleasant cuddle he and Stefano are having.

But on the other hand if he doesn’t get hard, that’s not right either- Myra made that more than clear. No matter how much he loved her and believed she loved him, those words hurt, and they are with him even now. If he can’t perform, if he can’t do what he is supposed to do, he is a broken, useless man, and no one is ever going to want him. Myra didn’t, and surely Stefano won’t either once he realizes Sebastian can’t give him what he wants, what he deserves.

Now that he thinks about it, the signs have been there all along. Stefano is clearly of a different social standing than Sebastian- his clothes, his car, his refined mannerisms make it clear that he is accustomed to the finer things in life, and Sebastian is not one of those finer things. It’s a little surprising that Stefano even gave him the time of day, that Stefano teamed up with him at all, and Sebastian wonders for just a moment if maybe providing Stefano some entertainment with his death is all he’s good for.

He dismisses that thought as quickly as it comes though, if only because he knows Stefano would be angry at him for having it. Clearly whatever macabre interest Stefano had in him initially has faded to be replaced by a genuine affection that even Sebastian at his most self-deprecating cannot deny.

He is going around and around in his head with these competing thoughts when Stefano stirs against him.

“Are you alright?” Stefano mutters, voice thick with sleep and muffled by Sebastian’s skin.

“Yeah,” Sebastian replies. “I’m fine.” Then, perhaps a little more defensively than necessary. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart is racing,” Stefano says, rolling onto his side to place a hand on Sebastian’s chest where his face was just a moment before. Now that he’s paying attention to it, Sebastian can feel that his heart is, indeed, pounding underneath Stefano’s hand.

“Oh, sorry,” he says quickly, bringing his own hand up to cover Stefano’s. “I guess I was just thinking about...some things.”

It’s a huge understatement, and Stefano doesn’t buy it.

“You think entirely too much,” he says.

Sebastian can’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m pretty sure we both do,” he observes. “I mean, that’s probably why we ended up in Silent Hill in the first place.”

“A likely theory,” Stefano says, “though I am interested in helping you think less and feel more.”

He slides his hand down Sebastian’s body a little, and it’s only a few inches, not even close to anything remotely sexual, but Sebastian tenses up involuntarily, every muscle going rigid under Stefano’s hand.

“Careful,” Sebastian says. It’s a dumb thing to say, but the word pops out of his mouth before he even thinks about what he’s doing.

Stefano freezes, then suddenly speaks.

“That was my dream about Andre,” he says.

“What?”

“I was with Andre, and he told me to be careful with you,” Stefano explains.

That gets another laugh out of Sebastian, half-genuine, because dream-Andre clearly understands him, and half-nervous, because Stefano’s hand could so easily just continue down his body, and then he’s either going to feel that Sebastian is excited and think he’s some kind of disgusting pervert or he’s going to feel that Sebastian is not excited and wonder what the hell is wrong with him for not being interested in sex at a time when he obviously should be.

“He’s right,” Sebastian says quickly. “I’m...uh...I’m kind of a mess at stuff like this.” He places his hand over Stefano’s again, then clarifies. “I thought what happened earlier was really great. I mean, I’m really glad I could make you feel good. It’s just that things are a little more complicated for me.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it,” Stefano says, shifting over to rest his chin on Sebastian’s hand. His tone is relaxed, undemanding, and even though Sebastian can’t see him, he can imagine the expression on Stefano’s face- one of curiosity, not judgment. Under the cover of darkness, he feels a little braver than usual, and he takes a deep breath.

“I guess it’s basically what I told you before,” he says. “I have trouble doing this stuff-” He gestures in the dark at himself, and Stefano, then realizes that of course Stefano can’t see him. “-or even thinking about this stuff, because of work. It just makes my skin crawl, because I’ve seen and heard about a lot of really disgusting things people do, and I would never want to put someone in that position, would never want to do anything like that to someone-”

“You don’t have to say ‘someone’,” Stefano interjects. “We are talking about me.”

“You then,” Sebastian says. “I would never want to do anything like that to you.”

“What?” Stefano prompts. “What would you not want to do to me?”

“Use you,” Sebastian answers without thinking. “Take advantage of you.”

“And what makes you think you would be taking advantage of me?” Stefano asks.

“Well, surely you don’t want to…” Sebastian lets the sentence trail off, but Stefano doesn’t say anything. Clearly he is not going to help Sebastian finish it. “...do those things with me,” Sebastian says finally.

Stefano sighs. “You were able to observe me earlier, yes?” he asks. “Do you think I looked like I did not wish to be doing ‘those things’ with you?”

Sebastian opens his mouth but pauses, because Stefano does have a point. He was nothing if not enthusiastic during their earlier encounter, and even though he wants to argue his point, it seems somehow disrespectful to Stefano not to acknowledge that.

“I guess you did seem pretty enthusiastic about it,” he admits.

“Exactly,” Stefano says. “I was enjoying myself tremendously, and I would like to bring you some of the pleasure you gave me.” He pauses. “But I need you to tell me how to do that.”

“That may be a little difficult,” Sebastian says.

“That is quite alright,” Stefano says. “Things worth doing are rarely easy, and as you may have noticed, I have taken quite an interest in you.”

Sebastian smiles in the dark, letting the hand that is resting on Stefano’s back move up and down for a few strokes. “You’ve been very good to me, but I don’t think I can give you what you want,” he says.

Stefano heaves a sigh. “You have said that before,” he says, “and what makes you so sure of what I want? Is that not rather presumptuous of you?”

Sebastian blinks a couple of times, because Stefano might have a point there as well. “I guess it is,” he says. “Never really thought about it that way.”

Even though they’re in the dark, Sebastian can almost hear the little, self-satisfied smile in Stefano’s voice when he speaks next. “Well then, why don’t you let me decide what I want and what I wish to do?” He presses a kiss to Sebastian’s chest, and Sebastian shivers with the implications of it. His mind is already racing ahead, imagining other things Stefano could do with his mouth, but he also knows Myra has tried that before and it didn’t work.

He swallows hard. “I...I don’t want you to think I’m not interested,” he says, “because I am. I really am, I promise, but I just don’t want you to be offended when I can’t do...what I’m supposed to do.”

He is blushing furiously. He’s sure of that, because he can feel his face burning and the warmth is spreading down his neck and onto his chest.

Stefano rests his cheek against Sebastian’s chest again. “This was a point of contention with you and Myra, was it not?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, “it was.” His heart sinks as he remembers the look on Myra’s face when he was struggling to...perform. “I don’t think she meant to hurt me, but it just...I think it just made her feel bad about herself.” He sighs. “And I couldn’t convince her that it had nothing to do with her, that I was definitely attracted to her, and we just went around in circles like that until eventually we just stopped even trying. He shakes his head. “It sounds pathetic when I say it all together like that, but that’s pretty much what happened.”

He reflexively tries to roll onto his side, to face away from Stefano and put some distance between himself and what he perceives as Stefano’s scrutiny, but Stefano is still leaning on him, and as Sebastian tries to move, Stefano gently pushes him back to the bed.

“Thank you for sharing all of that with me,” he says after a brief pause, “but I do not believe that will happen to us.”

“You say that now,” Sebastian says. He doesn’t even finish the thought. He and Myra thought they were strong enough to last, to withstand anything, and now that they’ve fallen apart he has a hard time imagining that things will be any different with Stefano, no matter what Stefano says to the contrary.

“I do,” Stefano says, scratching his fingernails lightly on Sebastian’s chest for emphasis. It’s an affectionate gesture, and before Sebastian even thinks about it, he’s smiling faintly and bringing a hand up to stroke Stefano’s hair. He can’t believe how much these simple, little touches are making him feel, but after so many months- or was it years- of solitude, perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.

“You have a different perspective now,” Stefano says. “We both do. Perhaps we owe that to Silent Hill, or perhaps it is simply the passage of time- I cannot be sure- but I do know that we are speaking very openly and very honestly, and if we continue to do that, I think it will be quite difficult for us to have the sort of misunderstanding you are describing.”

Sebastian blinks for a moment. ‘Misunderstanding’ is putting it very mildly, and he mentally recoils from the memory of Myra crying, Myra asking why she wasn’t enough for him when she was everything to him. But Stefano was in Silent Hill with him. Stefano has seen more of him than he has ever shared with anyone, even Myra, and if Stefano believes they can overcome this, that has to mean something.

He sighs deeply. “Alright,” he says. “I’m willing to try if you are, but just please don’t be upset if it doesn’t work.” He can hear the vulnerability in his voice, the raw, naked fear that Stefano will reject him, but that doesn’t matter right now, because Stefano has already seen him at his worst, and somehow Stefano is still here beside him.

“Of course not,” Stefano soothes. He props himself up on his elbow so that his hand is free to move across Sebastian’s body again. “And we are not going to rush into anything.” His hand begins to make slow circles on Sebastian’s chest. “Touching is not always intended to arouse,” he continues, fingers and palm sliding over Sebastian’s skin, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake. Sebastian’s nerve endings are so confused that he isn’t sure if it’s arousal or not, but it does feel very nice.

“Okay,” he sighs, letting one hand drop back to the bed and the other come to rest lightly at the small of Stefano’s back. He is suddenly much too aware of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest under Stefano’s hand, but Stefano’s hand is grounding him, anchoring him to the bed even though his heart is beating a little faster now. Stefano may not intend to arouse, but everything Stefano does is arousing anyway.

He presses his head back into the pillow and closes his eyes, which may be a mistake, because now he feels like he’s floating, like Stefano’s hand on his body is the only thing keeping him in touch with reality, and that’s okay, because after everything that happened in Silent Hill, he doesn’t know what’s real anymore. For all he knows, he and Stefano might be the only people left in the world.

“Sebastian.” Stefano’s voice is silky smooth, not demanding his attention but easing its way into his consciousness. “Are you still with me?”

“Yes,” he breathes.

Stefano’s nails scratch lightly against his skin, and he shivers. “Do not get lost in your own head,” Stefano says. “Heaven knows we have both done enough of that recently.”

“You’re right,” Sebastian says. “Sorry, I’ll try to stay focused.”

Stefano’s fingertips glide up and down his side, and it almost tickles but he steels himself, leans into Stefano’s touch, and it feels so much better now that he’s present, now that he’s focused on what Stefano is doing to him.

“No need to apologize,” Stefano says. “We are learning as we go.”

The words stir something in Sebastian’s memory. As Stefano’s fingers trace his collarbone, he asks, “When I saw you and Andre together-” Stefano’s fingers falter for a moment, and Sebastian pauses.

“It is alright,” Stefano says, letting his hand run down the center of Sebastian’s chest. “You surprised me a bit by mentioning his name, but please, ask what you will.”

“Was that your first time?” Sebastian finishes. He’s sure he must be blushing again, but he is desperately curious to know. For some reason the idea of Stefano being new to this, exploring uncharted territory with another young man in the tenuous safety of the barracks, fills him with the same warmth as Stefano’s touches.

“Very likely,” Stefano replies with no hesitation this time. “I do not know exactly what memory you saw, but Andre was my first for everything.”

Stefano’s hand continues downward but stops short of his underwear to rub his belly, and Sebastian almost laughs at the affection and innocence in that gesture. He has more important things on his mind, however.

“Did he know what he was doing?”

“No,” Stefano says quickly, hand stroking Sebastian’s hip now. “Neither one of us did. It was, as they say, the blind leading the blind.” He laughs. “It is a wonder we managed to work it out as well as we did.”

Stefano’s hand slides down to run along Sebastian’s thigh, and Sebastian sighs again, relaxing into the caress. He can’t remember the last time anyone touched him at all, much less with so much care, and it’s almost bringing a lump to his throat just to think that Stefano would touch him like this, that anyone would touch him like this.

His curiosity gets the best of him though. “What...uh...what exactly was it that you worked out?” he asks. “I mean, I kind of know how things work with two guys, but what exactly were you…?” He lets the question trail off, not wanting to say anything insensitive or vulgar.

Again, he can hear the smile in Stefano’s voice, so any fears he had of offending him are quickly put to rest. Stefano’s hand continues to run up and down his leg as he speaks.

“We were quite new to everything, and we were very afraid of being caught in the act. As you can imagine, the repercussions of that would have been quite severe, so we were a bit...limited in what we could do,” he says. “But we were still able to satisfy each other with our hands and our mouths.”

Sebastian is pretty sure he’s not the only one blushing at this point, but he can’t blame Stefano of course. There is a delicious excitement in even talking about these possibilities, and he can’t help but feel a little proud that he has also been able to satisfy Stefano with his hand despite having no experience in such things.

As he thinks about it, he can’t help but imagine other things he and Stefano might do, and there is a stirring low in his belly, a spreading warmth that he recognizes as arousal, though he sets it aside for the moment. He and Stefano are having a very pleasant time doing...whatever it is they are doing now, and he’s not about to ruin it by turning this into something else.

“I have become a bit more educated on the subject in the intervening years,” Stefano adds. “And I am sure you and I can figure out anything we do not already know. Surely you have some of your own youthful experimentation to draw upon.”

“I don’t know about that,” Sebastian says. “None of my ‘youthful experimentation’ was with other guys.”

“But surely you learned what you enjoy yourself,” Stefano says. His hand is back on Sebastian’s hip, and Sebastian is suddenly hyper aware of every movement, every place Stefano’s fingers are in contact with his skin or brushing over his underwear. His cock lies thick and heavy against his belly, and all he can think about is what would happen if Stefano shifts his hand over a little, if Stefano wrapped his fingers around him, if Stefano lifted up the waistband of his underwear to slip his hand inside…

“Sebastian?” Stefano prompts. His hand has gone still, and Sebastian realizes he is probably waiting on an answer to his question.

He casts frantically back in his mind, wonders for a moment if he really does know what he enjoys himself, because he hasn’t had any intimate moments in the recent past, and before that he spent most of his time in the bedroom concerned primarily with satisfying his partner and not doing anything to embarrass himself.

“I...I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”

“That won’t do,” Stefano murmurs, fingers making small circles around Sebastian’s hip bone. “Why don’t you let me help you figure it out.”

Stefano’s fingers move purposefully a little farther from his hip, a little closer to the aching source of his need, to the place where he both wants and fears Stefano’s touch. Time seems to stop for a moment. Stefano’s fingers burn, and Sebastian can hear the beating of his own heart, his own harsh breaths in his ears. He wants, and even if he is afraid, he trusts Stefano.

“Okay,” he whispers.


	38. Overwriting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexual content in this chapter.

Stefano is aware of every little movement of Sebastian’s muscles, every tiny hitch in his breathing, because as much strength and confidence and determination as Sebastian may have shown him on the streets of Silent Hill, here in the bedroom he is fragile, vulnerable, and Stefano understands what an honor it is to be entrusted with that vulnerability.

When Sebastian gives him the go-ahead, he doesn’t act immediately. For one thing, he’s always been one to take his time and savor an intimate moment, and his desperately needy display of a few hours ago has left him reeling. For another, he can tell that Sebastian is tense, is bracing himself, but for what Stefano is not sure. Sebastian is a bit of a puzzle after all, and one that is going to take a delicate hand to solve.

That hand stays on Sebastian’s hip for a few seconds, thumb making small circles over his hip bone, enough to reassure Sebastian, he hopes, but not enough to send his thoughts spiraling out of control about what might happen next.

He is still trying to fully understand the difficulty Sebastian seems to have with intimacy, but one thing is quite clear to him: the controlling factor in this endeavor is Sebastian’s ability to control his own mind, to stay focused on the positive aspects- affection, comfort, and pleasure- rather than whatever darker thoughts he has about intimacy in general. Stefano will help him as much as he can, but a lot of this does rest firmly on Sebastian’s shoulders.

When Sebastian sighs deeply and those shoulders finally relax a little bit, Stefano is more confident in moving forward. He lets his fingers stray from Sebastian’s hip back onto the bare skin of his belly just above the waistband of his underwear (or more accurately, Stefano’s underwear that he is wearing) to tease him with light, tentative strokes.

“Do you think you can do something for me, Sebastian?” he asks. He doesn’t intend his tone to be overly suggestive, but Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath tells him that his voice is doing something for Sebastian all on its own.

“Yes,” Sebastian replies, and Stefano can hear the tension in his voice, though whether it comes from nerves, lust, or some combination of the two, he cannot tell.

“Stay with me,” Stefano says. “Stay focused on me.”

There is a pause before Sebastian chuckles and says, “It’s kind of hard to focus on anything else when you’re doing that.”

“I would hope so,” Stefano says, “but you do like to overthink things, and I would hate for your mind to wander when we are concerning ourselves with pleasure.”

He can feel the goosebumps rising on Sebastian’s skin before he soothes them away with firmer strokes of his fingers.

“I’ll do my best,” Sebastian says, and he sounds like he means it, though Stefano still isn’t sure if that’s going to be enough.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Stefano asks. “To allow you to be more present?”

“Just talk to me,” Sebastian says, a little breathlessly. “I need some thoughts in my head that aren’t... you know…”

“Of course,” Stefano says, because now he understands a bit more than he did a few minutes ago, as though the curtain over the inner recesses of Sebastian’s mind has been drawn back just a little. Sebastian does overthink, and doubtless his head is full of thoughts at a time like this. Stefano can easily imagine that he needs something to replace those thoughts- to replace the narrative woven by police reports and victim statements- and Stefano is more than capable of doing that.

“Just relax and listen to my voice,” he says, now taking care to make his voice a little more sultry than usual. It seems to be working, because Sebastian’s breath catches in his throat and his hips shift slightly, unconsciously, toward Stefano. “I am here to take care of you, and I am going to make you feel good. Just stay with me.”

His fingers are toying with the waistband of Sebastian’s underwear now. “Can we get these out of the way?”

“Yes,” breathes Sebastian with no hesitation, and then Sebastian’s hands are moving, grasping his underwear and pushing them down. Stefano helps him finish taking them off and tosses them aside, bringing his hand back to Sebastian’s belly where it was before.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, both because he genuinely wants to know and because he hopes that asking Sebastian to articulate his feelings will keep him focused on the moment, on what he and Stefano are doing now and not on whatever else might be trying to edge its way into his mind.

“A little nervous,” Sebastian says, though Stefano could have guessed that already. “A little excited,” he adds, and Stefano smiles.

“That’s alright,” he says. “We can figure this out.” They did solve the mysteries of Silent Hill after all, so surely this should not be beyond their abilities.

He starts out slowly, carefully, running his hand over to Sebastian’s hip and down his thigh, unsure of how Sebastian might react to more direct stimulation at this point. Sebastian only sighs, parting his legs a little, which Stefano takes as an invitation to caress his inner thigh on the way back up. Sebastian shivers at that, and Stefano smiles to himself again.

Sebastian is, in some ways, so repressed, but also so beautifully responsive that Stefano wants to just experiment with his body for hours, to touch and stroke and tease and find all of the places that make Sebastian react, to catalog all of those reactions for future use, but of course now is not the time for that, and if Sebastian is ready for more, Stefano certainly doesn’t intend to keep him waiting.

“May I touch you?” he asks, half expecting Sebastian to point out that Stefano is already touching him.

“Please,” Sebastian says, and his voice holds just as much of a plea as his words do.

Stefano’s hand moves over. It’s just a few inches, but it’s enough that Stefano’s fingers can brush his cock, can trace lightly up and down along the length as Sebastian shivers under him again. He wraps his fingers around it cautiously, giving it a gentle squeeze to see how Sebastian will react. Sebastian isn’t fully hard yet, but that isn’t entirely unexpected, both because of Sebastian’s established difficulties and because he is an older man- a fact Stefano has no intention of bringing up with him, but which certainly affects his approach.

Apparently Sebastian is aware of the state of his erection as well, because he says, “Please don’t think I’m not interested. It just takes me a minute to-”

“Shhh,” Stefano cuts him off, eager to head off those thoughts before Sebastian’s mind runs away with him. “It’s alright. As long as it feels good, I am quite happy to touch you in any state.”

Sebastian’s voice is tight. “Thank you. I just didn’t think anyone would want to-” His words end in what sounds like a choked sob, and in an instant Stefano has forgotten all about the pursuit of anything sexual. His arms are around Sebastian, and Sebastian’s face is buried in his shoulder.

“I understand what you are saying,” Stefano says, “but you are being rather ridiculous. I think I have made it abundantly clear at this point that I want to be with you, that I want to do those things with you. Is there some other way you need me to demonstrate my sincerity?”

“No,” Sebastian gasps into his shoulder. He’s not crying exactly, but he is breathing hard, clearly fighting to get control of himself. “No, I just...it’s just hard to believe that someone like you could want someone like me.”

Stefano hugs him tightly. Any annoyance he might have felt at Sebastian’s abrupt change in mood is melting away, because he knows exactly what Sebastian is talking about. He has had those same thoughts, has looked in the mirror at his shattered face, at the wreckage of his body, and wondered who could ever want him. Sebastian’s scars may not be as visible, but they are just as real.

He turns to press a kiss to Sebastian’s hair. “I will keep telling you until you believe it,” he says, and he can feel Sebastian’s shoulders shake a little with laughter. “I mean it,” he adds. “I can be very persuasive.”

“Oh, I already know that,” Sebastian says. “I mean, we got this far, didn’t we?”

Stefano is about to answer, but then Sebastian’s lips are on his neck, and Sebastian’s beard is tickling his skin, and there is a rush of warmth between his own legs that brings him squarely back to the task at hand. Sebastian pulls back, and Stefano leans in, finds Sebastian’s mouth in the darkness to kiss him deeply.

He isn’t feeling the same intense, aching need as he was earlier, but Sebastian still excites him. Sebastian’s hands squeeze his hips, and Sebastian’s lips part to allow his tongue in, and Sebastian is making little noises in his throat as he tries to move closer to Stefano.

“Yes,” Stefano murmurs as soon as their mouths part, because Sebastian’s movements are bringing his groin into contact with Stefano’s thigh, and he can feel Sebastian’s breath hitch a little each time he presses up against him. “Just like that.”

His hands are on Sebastian’s hips now, guiding him, encouraging him, and Sebastian is openly rutting against him, gasping with each thrust.

“Is this-?” Sebastian starts to ask, but Stefano cuts him off.

“Yes,” he murmurs. “Yes, Sebastian. Just let yourself go. You are doing so well.” He is rambling now, speaking in a stream of consciousness, but Sebastian seems to be responding to it, because he continues to press against Stefano with abandon. “You feel so good. Your cock feels so good.”

“I’m not hurting you?” Sebastian asks, pausing for a moment and sounding genuinely concerned.

Stefano doesn’t stop to consider how Sebastian could ever be hurting him in this situation or how Sebastian may have gotten the idea that such a thing is even possible, because that’s not going to do either of them any good. “No,” he answers quickly. “In fact…”

He takes Sebastian’s hand and guides it between them, presses it to his own cock which is starting to show signs of life again. His intention isn’t to shift the focus to his own pleasure but to show Sebastian the effect their activities are having on him, to reassure Sebastian that this isn’t one of those situations he’s read about in so many case reports.

Sebastian does stroke him thoughtfully for a moment, but his hand doesn’t linger too long before it returns to his hip. “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss Stefano again. “And I think I might be starting to get back there too.”

This time Sebastian takes Stefano’s hand and guides it to his cock, which is already resting on Stefano’s thigh. As Sebastian says, he is definitely getting somewhere, and when Stefano wraps his hand around it this time, Sebastian gasps and presses toward Stefano.

“So good,” Stefano murmurs, letting the velvet-soft skin of Sebastian’s cock slide through his fingers. Sebastian’s hips are still moving of their own accord, and for a few seconds, Stefano allows Sebastian to set the pace, to thrust into his hand, muscles flexing as he drives himself forward, a soft grunt or exhale escaping his throat each time.

Stefano is keeping up a steady stream of encouragement and reassurance, but even as he does so, he can’t help but appreciate the strength behind Sebastian’s thrusts, the weight and girth of Sebastian’s cock. He can’t help but imagine how it might feel to take Sebastian inside him, to have his body- not just his hand- moved by those powerful thrusts, to be stretched open by that magnificent cock.

He can hear the change in his voice, the way it deepens with lust, can feel the change in his own breathing, but more importantly, he can feel and hear those changes in Sebastian as well. Sebastian is engaged, Sebastian is aroused, and most importantly, Sebastian is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Heartened by Sebastian’s newfound eagerness to participate, Stefano begins to be a little more directive in how he handles Sebastian. He adjusts his grip, sliding his hand down to the base of Sebastian’s cock, and Sebastian pauses in his movements, lifts his leg out of the way and drapes it over Stefano’s hip to give Stefano some room.

“Lovely,” Stefano murmurs as he takes Sebastian’s cock in one hand, letting the other hand reach even lower to cradle Sebastian’s balls. Sebastian sighs, and Stefano can almost feel the anticipation building inside him, because now Sebastian is fully hard, thick and ready in his hand.

As much as Stefano would like to pause and savor the moment, he also doesn’t want to give Sebastian time to get distracted or lose interest, so he gives Sebastian’s cock a gentle squeeze before he begins to stroke it up and down. His other hand massages Sebastian’s balls in time with his strokes, and Sebastian makes another choked gasping noise, but this time Stefano can tell that it’s from pleasure, not emotional turmoil.

“Easy,” Stefano says, because now Sebastian is literally trembling in his hands, as though he might fly apart into a thousand pieces if Stefano makes the wrong move. “You’re alright,” he soothes. “Just stay with me. Listen to me. Pay attention the way my hands feel on you.”

Stefano can feel, rather than see, Sebastian nod, and Sebastian’s hands, which have been clutching desperately at his hips, loosen their hold a little.

“That’s it,” Stefano says. “Just let me help you.”

His hands are still moving, working Sebastian’s body, and Sebastian’s breath is coming in harsh pants now. Stefano can feel the tension creeping back into Sebastian’s muscles, can feel that Sebastian has to be close to climax, but then suddenly Sebastian is pulling away with a huff of frustration, rolling onto his back.

Stefano lets him go but stays close, propped up on one elbow and resting his other hand on Sebastian’s chest.

“What’s wrong,” he asks, taking care that his tone is merely curious and not accusatory. “Was that not pleasurable for you?” He’s pretty confident in his reading of Sebastian right up until just a moment ago, but he still wants to hear it from Sebastian himself.

“No, it’s not that,” Sebastian says, voice holding frustration and disappointment in equal parts. “It felt good- really good actually- but I just...I don’t know.”

“Do you not want to feel good?” Stefano asks.

“I’m not sure,” Sebastian answers, sounding a little frightened of his own honesty.

“Do you not think you deserve to feel good?” Stefano asks. He’s guessing a little bit now, reaching perhaps a bit too far beyond his own limited knowledge of psychology to theorize about what might be going on in Sebastian’s mind, but it doesn’t seem like such a great leap in logic. After all, Sebastian is filled with guilt and self-doubt even at the best of times.

Sebastian doesn’t answer, and Stefano continues. “I think you deserve to feel good, and I’d like to keep working on that if you will let me.”

“I guess that would be alright,” Sebastian says. He sounds calmer now, more collected. Whatever interrupted the process earlier seems to have left him for the moment. “You are very good with your hands,” Sebastian adds.

Stefano can feel his face flushing hot as Sebastian wraps an arm around him to pull him close again.

“I am even more skilled with my mouth,” he says without thinking, and when he hears his own words come out of his mouth, it makes him blush even more.

“You don’t have to do that,” Sebastian says quickly.

“I know I do not have to,” Stefano answers, “but I would very much like to if you will allow it.”

Sebastian’s hand runs up and down his back. “Are you always so formal?”

Stefano laughs, because Andre once asked him the same thing. “Generally, yes,” he replies. “Though this time, I could make an exception and ask if I can suck your cock.”

The words- not particularly vulgar but certainly outside his usual repertoire- have their intended effect, and Sebastian shivers underneath him.

“Yes,” he breathes. “Yes, I...please…”

Sebastian seems to know what he wants even though he can’t articulate it, and Stefano is secretly quite pleased with himself that he’s been able to bring Sebastian to this state especially after his initial reluctance. More than that, though, he wants Sebastian’s cock in his mouth, wants Sebastian writhing in pleasure under him, and it thrills him to know that Sebastian wants the same thing.

He slips out from under Sebastian’s arm and moves down Sebastian’s body, pushing the sheet and duvet aside so that he has unobstructed access. When his hand finds Sebastian’s cock, he is delighted to note that whatever interruption they just experienced doesn’t seem to have diminished Sebastian’s erection at all.

“What should I-?” Sebastian begins to ask, but Stefano is already guiding him, moving his legs apart so that Stefano can lie between them, one arm draped over Sebastian’s hip and the other hand wrapped around his cock.

The smell of Sebastian is heavy in the air as he lowers his head, brings his lips to the head of Sebastian’s cock to place a kiss there. Sebastian draws his breath in sharply, and his cock jumps a little in Stefano’s hand, but Stefano waits for a moment and he settles again, at least until Stefano wraps his lips around the tip, exerting gentle pressure there as his tongue flicks out to tease Sebastian’s heated flesh.

Stefano wonders briefly if it’s going to become a problem that he can’t talk to Sebastian while he’s doing this, but they’ll have to cross that bridge when they come to it. He’s not about to pass up this opportunity, and if the little whimper that Sebastian makes in the back of his throat is any indication, Stefano’s silence may not be a problem at all.

He works his tongue over the head of Sebastian’s cock first, enjoying the taste, the smell of Sebastian as well as the little noises Sebastian makes, the shifts of his hips that tell Stefano he is doing something right. His hand is still wrapped around the base of Sebastian’s cock, but that gives his mouth plenty of room to work, and he slides it down farther, trying to take as much of Sebastian in as he can.

He can feel Sebastian tense up, brace himself against the bed as he draws his breath in sharply again, and Stefano wants to check in with him, wants to make sure he is okay, but his mouth is quite occupied at the moment as he is still using his lips and tongue to stimulate Sebastian. He gives Sebastian’s hip a squeeze with his free hand, hoping that will serve as some form of communication. Sebastian’s hand covers his and gives it a squeeze in return, which provides some measure of reassurance that he is still on the right track.

With that, he throws himself fully into the task at hand, taking Sebastian in deeply, massaging him with his mouth and his throat before pulling back to focus on the head again, squeezing with his lips and exploring with his tongue, and learning all of the sensitive places that make Sebastian gasp and moan and press up toward his mouth.

Sebastian has managed to turn Stefano’s other hand over, so that they are now holding hands, fingers interlaced with each other, and Stefano can tell by the way Sebastian is squeezing his hand, by the way the fingers of Sebastian’s other hand are digging into the mattress, that he’s getting close, but even if he hadn’t read those smaller cues, he can’t help but take notice when his name escapes Sebastian’s lips.

“Stefano…”

Stefano raises his head, letting Sebastian’s cock slip out of his mouth for a moment.

“I know,” he says calmly, sure that Sebastian is trying to warn him about his increasing state of arousal. “It’s alright. I want you to.”

There is just enough early morning light filtering in from behind the curtains now that he can see Sebastian, who has lifted his head to look down at him, nod and then let his head fall back on the pillow.

The trust Sebastian places in him suddenly feels like a great responsibility, but Stefano is up to the task, and when he takes Sebastian’s cock in his mouth again, Sebastian is even less inhibited, even more responsive. His hips are arching off the bed, rising and falling in time with the movements of Stefano’s mouth, and his moans are taking the form of words like, “Please,” and “Yes,” and “Stefano”.

The sight and sound and feeling of Sebastian lost in pleasure is driving Stefano’s arousal to new heights, and though this isn’t at all the time to act on that, his own erection is pressing hard against the mattress. He continues to lick and suck, to draw his lips and tongue up and down Sebastian’s cock until Sebastian draws his breath in sharply and squeezes his hand tightly.

“Stefano,” he forces out through gritted teeth, “I’m going to-”

Stefano swallows him down then, taking him deeply into his throat just as Sebastian arches up again, releasing with a groan. Stefano holds him there, swallows his seed and milks his cock dry, before pulling off slowly, still holding Sebastian’s cock in his hand.

Sebastian is breathing hard, the hand that isn’t holding Stefano’s flung over his eyes, and it’s only now that Stefano notices the thin sheen of sweat all over his body, the way his chest is heaving.

“Sebastian?” Stefano says, his own stomach turning over as he realizes he isn’t actually sure if Sebastian is alright.

“I’m okay,” Sebastian gasps out, throwing his arm aside to look down at Stefano. “I just...can you come here for a minute?”

He tugs on Stefano’s hand, urging him upwards, and Stefano follows, moving up the bed so that he is on level with Sebastian. As soon as he does, Sebastian practically launches himself into his arms, clinging to him in a way Stefano has only seen him do in times of emotional distress, which to be fair happens to Sebastian pretty often. He’s about to ask what is going on when Sebastian speaks again.

“I’m okay,” he repeats, almost as though he is trying to convince himself. “And that was really good. It was just...it was just a lot, and it’s been a long time since I…” He leaves the sentence unfinished, breath coming in quick puffs against Stefano’s skin.

“Even by yourself?” Stefano asks. He is holding Sebastian, rubbing his back in an attempt to console him, but his curiosity still gets the better of him.

“Yeah,” Sebastian sniffs. He’s not actually crying yet, but he sounds like he’s not far from it. “Even by myself. I guess I’m even more fucked up than we thought.”

“Sebastian,” Stefano says firmly. “There is nothing wrong with you, and I have certainly never had that thought.” Sebastian snuggles further into his arms, and he smiles a little despite the serious nature of their conversation. “Why did you not tell me about the...extent of the situation.”

Sebastian pauses for a moment before answering. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get that far,” he says. “I thought we’d try for a little while, and then I wouldn’t be able to do it. I didn’t expect...that.”

Even though he is still concerned about Sebastian of course, Stefano feels secretly pleased that he has managed to exceed his lover’s expectations. “I understand that your feelings may be a bit complicated,” he says, “but can you tell me how you felt about it while it was happening?”

“Mostly good,” Sebastian says. “I mean, physically everything felt really good.” He gives Stefano a little squeeze. “It got a little scary at the end though. I guess I don’t really like feeling out of control.”

“I see,” Stefano says. It does make sense. Sebastian has lacked control in so many important aspects of his life- in his job, his relationship with Myra, the losses of Lily and Joseph and Diego.

“I think it’s just going to take some getting used to,” Sebastian says. He pulls back so that Stefano can actually see him. “Thank you,” he adds. “I guess I should have said that first, but thank you. That was really great, and I hope we can do it again.”

Sebastian’s smile is a little sheepish, but sincere, and Stefano is sure that his answering smile is just as genuine. Sebastian has a way of bringing out the authentic emotions from behind whatever façade he tries to construct.

“We certainly can,” Stefano says. He can think of a few other things he’d like to do with Sebastian as well, but there will be plenty of time for those later.

“Do you think we have to get up yet?” Sebastian asks, stifling a yawn.

“No,” Stefano reassures him. “This place is deserted. I can’t imagine anyone is going to be needing this room anytime soon. Why don’t you sleep a little more?”

Sebastian nods. “And then we can go to your house?” he mumbles, sounding as though he is already dozing off.

“Yes, of course,” Stefano murmurs, settling in against Sebastian for a few more hours of sleep.

A few days ago, he would have described his home as an empty place, a lonely place, and not one that he had any pressing desire to return to, but when he thinks about going back there with Sebastian, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Maybe there is a reason to return to it after all.


	39. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit sexual content in this chapter.

Poole’s Motor Lodge is just as deserted when Sebastian and Stefano pull out of the parking lot as it was when they arrived, and by the time they are a few miles down the road, Sebastian is wondering if the motel was a real place or just a temporary safe space created by their exhausted minds. If it was a hallucination, at least it was a bit more welcoming than Silent Hill. There was a sense of peace there that Sebastian hasn’t felt in quite a long time, though that probably has more to do with Stefano than any particular place.

He turns to look at Stefano, flashing him a smile when they make eye contact. It feels a bit forced, not because of Stefano of course, but because of everything they’ve been through and the lingering uncertainty about the future. Stefano’s answering smile is strained enough that Sebastian can tell they are on the same page.

For the first hour or so, they don’t even speak, as though that will break some sort of spell that keeps the world around them stable, the road ahead of them straight and solid, the sky clear and sunny. Sebastian briefly considers turning on the radio, but remembers what happened the last time he tried that and decides to leave it alone.

He entertains himself for a while by looking out the window, and it is not until he starts to feel like he should be doing something with his hands that he realizes he can’t remember the last time he was in a car and he wasn’t smoking. He doesn’t even crave the nicotine so much as he longs for a distraction, but that starts him thinking about how odd it is that he isn’t missing alcohol and cigarettes more than he is.

A few days ago, he was either drunk or trying to find a way to get drunk, to numb the pain of his miserable existence with alcohol, and there was hardly a moment that he didn’t have a cigarette in his hand. He did smoke a few cigarettes companionably with Stefano in Silent Hill, but since he got there he hasn’t felt the compulsion to drink or smoke, and that doesn’t make any sense to him.

Years on the police force have taught him that addiction is a formidable opponent, even for someone who genuinely wants to get clean, and it’s not the sort of thing that can be overcome in days or even weeks. But his desire for a cigarette now arises from boredom rather than compulsion. If anything, his old vices feel like familiar habits. They would give him some comfort, but they are not the only place he can find that comfort. It’s almost as though his brain was reset by Silent Hill...or he never left Silent Hill.

The second possibility is terrifying and does give him pause. If he and Stefano were experiencing some sort of altered reality inside the town, then it makes sense in a way that he wouldn’t be bound by the limits of his physical body while that was going on. However, he would expect that as soon as he was back in the real world, he would be feeling those effects- a crippling hangover, the magnetic draw of a pack of cigarettes. But he hasn’t, and some part of him fears that it’s because he never got back to the real world at all.

He turns to Stefano, determined to say something, to voice his fears, but Stefano must be having some of the same thoughts, because he speaks before Sebastian can even open his mouth.

“If you are going to ask whether we have returned to our reality or not, I am afraid I cannot say.”

“That’s exactly what I was going to ask,” Sebastian says. “And it’s a little suspicious how well you can read my mind.”

Stefano smiles knowingly. “I do not find it suspicious,” he says. “After all, few people have been through what you and I experienced. It stands to reason that we would have some of the same questions.”

Sebastian remembers a time just after their first meeting, when they realized that they were in the same situation, that maybe they could help each other to survive, but now he finds himself compelled to ask the same question he asked Stefano then. It has been burning at the back of his mind the entire time, and now it comes to the forefront again- a terrifying possibility, but one he must consider.

“How do I know you’re real?”

Stefano turns to look at him, making sustained, meaningful eye contact before he turns his attention back to the road. “You have been by my side, Sebastian, through this entire ordeal. You have seen me at my strongest and my weakest. You have bared your soul to me, and you have seen my soul bared. You have touched me. You have held me in your arms. And yet you still doubt me?”

“No,” Sebastian says quickly, because as Stefano has been speaking, he realizes he no longer has any doubt of Stefano’s existence. He is simply so relieved, so overwhelmed that Stefano has come into his life, that Stefano apparently wants to remain in his life, that it is all a little hard to take in, but he certainly does not doubt Stefano. “No, I don’t. I just...you seem too good to be true.”

“As do you,” Stefano says, “but I suppose we will just have to learn to believe in each other.”

He reaches across the center console to take Sebastian’s hand in his, and Sebastian does believe in him.

The first car they see on the road comes as both a surprise and a relief, and Sebastian can tell by the look they exchange that they both take it as a sign they are moving closer to reality and farther from the illusions of Silent Hill.

Soon they are turning onto a major highway, and the dreamlike quality of the last few hours gradually fades in the presence of road signs, buildings, and other drivers.

It’s evening when they pull into the parking garage of Stefano’s home, which is actually a condo in a very nice building downtown. Sebastian is pretty sure this is the kind of place where the sort of company one keeps does not go unnoticed, but Stefano seems unconcerned about bringing him into the building, even in his rather dirty and bedraggled state.

He follows Stefano across the threshold into his apartment, and it’s just as neat and tidy and tastefully decorated as Sebastian would expect, though it does feel quite empty, as though Stefano has been absent from it for longer than just the time they were in Silent Hill. It is very nice though, and he tells Stefano so.

“Thank you,” Stefano replies with a vague smile, “though I must say it is much nicer now that you are here with me.”

Sebastian smiles as well. “I’m...uh...glad to be here, though I am a little concerned your neighbors will think you’re being held hostage.”

Stefano shakes his head. “I doubt very much they would notice even if that were the situation,” he says. “I have lived here for years, and I can count on one hand the number of times I have spoken to any of them.”

“That’s kind of sad,” Sebastian observes. He doesn’t mean to be rude, and apparently Stefano doesn’t take it that way either.

“Not really,” Stefano replies. “I am just rather particular about my associates. Now, Sebastian, are you hungry?”

Sebastian realizes at that moment that he can’t remember the last time he ate, though he doesn’t feel particularly hungry. Maybe the urge to satisfy basic needs like eating will return over time. “Actually, no,” he says, “though I feel like maybe I should be. What about you?”

“I am not either,” Stefano replies, “though I would appreciate a shower.”

Sebastian wouldn’t mind a shower himself, and that gives him another idea. “Would you like some company?” he asks, feeling the blush creeping up on his face.

Stefano’s face breaks out into an answering blush, and he hesitates for a moment before he replies. “That would be very welcome indeed.”

Once they reach Stefano’s bathroom, which is just as luxurious as the rest of the apartment, Sebastian is out of his own clothes in seconds, but Stefano takes a little more time. At first, Sebastian thinks he might just be particular about how he folds them or where they end up, but after a minute or two, it becomes apparent that Stefano is stalling for some reason.

“Do you need some help?” Sebastian asks hopefully.   
  


“No,” Stefano replies. “I am quite capable of undressing myself.” His tone isn’t rude, but it does feel closed-off somehow, and Sebastian turns to face Stefano, giving him a skeptical look.

“You know I’ve seen you naked before,” he points out. It’s not entirely the truth. It was too dark to see much in the motel room, and he only saw Stefano from the waist up when he was performing his impromptu surgery at the hospital in Silent Hill.

“Not all of me,” Stefano says, “and not in this context.” His voice is thin, fragile somehow, and Sebastian is pretty sure now that he has correctly identified the problem. He takes a step closer to Stefano, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I’d like to see all of you in any context,” he says, giving what he hopes is a reassuring smile.

“I have heard that before,” Stefano says.

“But you said yourself when we were in the car,” Sebastian points out. “After everything we’ve been through, can you really still doubt me?”

Stefano’s mouth turns up into a slight smile at the way Sebastian has turned his own words back on him. “I suppose you also seem too good to be true,” he says.

Sebastian extends his hand, and Stefano takes it so that Sebastian can raise Stefano’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it. When he raises his eyes to Stefano’s face, he can see that there are tears shining in Stefano’s visible eye, and he closes the distance, sweeps Stefano up into his arms and brings his mouth down on Stefano’s with perhaps more force than is really necessary, but Stefano is meeting him with just as much enthusiasm, pushing back against him, pushing his tongue into Sebastian’s mouth in a way that is warm and intimate but also quite suggestive of other things.

His arms are around Stefano at first, but soon he is frustrated by the feeling of Stefano’s shirt on his bare skin, and he is tugging the shirt out of Stefano’s pants, letting his hands move underneath to stroke Stefano’s bare chest and stomach, and Stefano shivers against him. Encouraged, his hands go to the buttons on Stefano’s shirt, undoing them with more dexterity than he would have expected from himself and throwing Stefano’s shirt open so that Stefano can shrug it off onto the floor.

He pulls back from the kiss then to look at Stefano, both because he actually wants to see him, to learn every inch of his skin, and because he wants Stefano to know that he is truly seeing him, to remove any possibility in Stefano’s mind that he might still be rejected because of how he looks.

Stefano’s skin is pale, almost translucent in the places where it is unmarred, but the right side of his body has some very noticeable scars. Even considering the fact that there is no mark from where he made his cut in the hospital in Silent Hill, Stefano has clearly undergone a lot of physical trauma, and Sebastian can feel a lump coming to his throat at the thought of the pain these wounds must have caused, at the idea of Stefano being in pain at all, but he swallows it back down, because Stefano needs his acceptance now, not his sympathy.

His hand reaches out, almost of its own volition, to trace the lines the shrapnel has left on Stefano’s body, and Stefano sways under his touch. His other hand comes to Stefano’s left hip, holding him steady as he continues to map out the scars, to follow them all the way from Stefano’s right hip up his torso to his shoulder, his neck-

Sebastian’s hand stops as it reaches Stefano’s cheek, asking permission before going any farther, but Stefano nods, and Sebastian carefully sweeps his hair aside. He’s seen Stefano’s face before of course, but there were always other things going on, always more pressing concerns, and now he looks upon him without reservation or worry.

The first thing he notices is that Stefano isn’t meeting his gaze. His eye is cast down at the floor, and Sebastian leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, letting his lips linger on Stefano’s skin afterward.

“You know I could look at you all day, right?”

Stefano gives his head a little shake. “You will have to excuse me if I find that difficult to believe.”

He tries to turn away, but Sebastian raises a hand and gently catches his cheek before he can make much progress. “Then I’m just going to have to keep telling you until you believe it.”

Stefano’s eye finally flicks up to meet his, and Sebastian smiles warmly. “I’m not kidding,” he says. “It’s going to get really repetitive.”

Stefano’s face breaks into a smile and he laughs, turning to kiss the palm of Sebastian’s hand. “I suppose I will have to get used to it then,” he says.

“That’s probably for the best,” Sebastian agrees, before he steps in to kiss Stefano again, one hand still on his face, fingers lightly tracing the scars on his cheek as Stefano’s lips part to allow his tongue inside. Maybe it’s just his imagination, but somehow Stefano still tastes like coffee, warm and familiar.

His hands go to the waistband of Stefano’s pants, working on his belt and the other fastenings there until he has undone all of them, and Stefano breaks the kiss to discard his pants on the floor along with his underwear. He kicks them away, and then Sebastian is holding him, and it’s all delicious warm skin pressed up against more skin, and some small part of Sebastian’s brain is telling him that this is wrong, that it’s bad for him to like the way this feels, to want to feel more of it, but Stefano is sighing deeply and pressing even closer to him, and then all he can think is that Stefano wants him just as much as he wants Stefano.

He knows he shouldn’t let himself enjoy this, shouldn’t pay attention to the way his cock is pressed against Stefano’s belly, shouldn’t let his hands roam lower to grab Stefano’s ass and pull him even closer, shouldn’t believe that this could ever be more than a fleeting moment in his life, but it feels too good and Stefano is whispering to him, urging him on, and the smell of Stefano and the warmth of his skin is just too much, and Sebastian is lost.

“We should...probably get in the shower,” Stefano says, though he doesn’t make any attempt to move away from Sebastian.

“Oh, right,” Sebastian says, the more rational part of his brain remembering what they were supposed to be doing and why they ended up naked in Stefano’s bathroom in the first place. Of course, he doesn’t feel a great desire to move either, and so they just end up standing there wrapped around each other for a few more seconds before Sebastian realizes that Stefano is shaking with silent laughter.

“What?” he asks.

“I am certainly not complaining about your...attentions,” Stefano replies, “but we are never going to get clean this way.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian says. “And I’m pretty sure I can continue my ‘attentions’ in the shower.”

He releases Stefano and steps back, and the smile on Stefano’s face, the way he holds himself with renewed confidence, makes Sebastian feel warm on the inside. He may have a lot to learn about making love to a man, but he feels like he is making some progress on understanding how to communicate his affection to Stefano.

Stefano busies himself with turning on the water and gathering towels, which leaves Sebastian to stand there a bit awkwardly and wait for the water to warm up. He’s not exactly self-conscious, but he’s certainly not the man he was twenty- or even ten- years ago, and even though Stefano doesn’t seem particularly concerned with that, it does weigh on his mind a little bit. It’s a relief when Stefano takes his hand and leads him into the shower.

The air is thick and steamy, and the warm water beats down on him. Stefano is in his arms again, and Sebastian has to pause for a moment to wonder how he got this lucky, why Stefano decided to help him, why Stefano decided to take him home at all, but all of those thoughts fly out of his head when Stefano steps in close to kiss him again, wrapping his arms around Sebastian’s neck and letting Sebastian support his weight as his tongue flicks against Sebastian’s, inviting Sebastian’s tongue into his mouth.

The kiss is pretty amazing in itself, but the movements of Stefano’s tongue also suggest some other things they might do together- things Sebastian has barely even contemplated before now-, and that plus Stefano’s proximity and enthusiasm is enough that Sebastian is already starting to feel the stirrings of arousal in his belly. As usual, those stirrings bring a certain amount of guilt with them, but Stefano’s hands and body and mouth are urging him on, and he pushes those thoughts aside. 

Stefano breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Sebastian’s. “What do you want, Sebastian?” he asks, and hearing his name on Stefano’s lips sends Sebastian’s excitement soaring to new heights.

“You,” he says, “I want you.” He takes a deep breath, then forges on, because if he allows himself to hesitate, he is going to drown under the weight of his own self-doubt. “I want to touch you everywhere. I want to kiss you everywhere. I want to make love to you.”

Sebastian doesn’t even have time to wonder if he’s said too much, if he’s embarrassing himself, because Stefano gasps and shivers in his arms, holding him close for a moment before releasing him to step back.

“Please,” he says.

Sebastian nods. He isn’t sure if anything he’s done in prior relationships has prepared him for this, but he wants to please Stefano, wants to be close to Stefano, wants to show Stefano how important he is to him.

His hands map out Stefano’s skin, starting at his shoulders and working their way down. It feels strange to compare Stefano to Myra, but that is the only basis Sebastian has for comparison, and Stefano’s skin is just as soft and supple and pale as Myra’s always was, but Stefano is built very differently, and that entices Sebastian to explore more of his body.

Stefano’s chest is flat and covered with lean muscle, rising and falling sharply under his hands as they skim over it. When Sebastian’s fingers brush over his nipples, Stefano’s eye closes and he draws his breath in sharply. Sebastian has never considered this area as a particularly erogenous zone on a man, but Stefano seems determined to prove otherwise, and the more Sebastian experiments, rubbing and squeezing and gently tugging on his nipples, the more Stefano reacts, until he is breathing hard and pressing into Sebastian’s touch.

Sebastian’s hands trace down over Stefano’s ribs, mapping out each scar- and there are a lot of them. Sebastian has always believed that scars on a person tell a story, and Stefano’s story is long and intricate, the threads of it intertwining and doubling back on themselves. He wants to explore each one, to learn every tiny detail, but maybe there will be time for that later. Now Stefano is resting his hands on his shoulders and practically quivering under his hands.

He knows he is supposed to continue lower, knows that he has actually done that- and more- earlier in the motel room, but somehow he is stalled, a little intimidated by Stefano’s state of arousal and his own inexperience in dealing with it. He tells himself that it’s silly, that obviously he knows how to handle a cock. He’s been handling his own for years, but somehow with Stefano’s he is afraid he won’t be good enough, afraid he will do something wrong. His hands hesitate at Stefano’s hips.

“Sebastian,” Stefano says, almost as though he can tell what is going through Sebastian’s mind.

Sebastian looks up to meet Stefano’s eye, and the look he sees there is all comfort and affection and encouragement. Stefano draws in his breath as though he is going to speak again, but Sebastian cuts him off with a kiss. This one isn’t so much passionate as warm and soft, and when Sebastian pulls away, Stefano reaches out to brush his cheek with his fingertips. The touch is gentle, intimate, and Sebastian can’t help but think that it’s definitely not the kind of thing he would read about in one of his police reports. Obviously he and Stefano are doing something very different, even though he’s not exactly sure what it is yet.

Emboldened, he lets one hand go to the small of Stefano’s back, while the other slides down between his legs to palm his cock. The warm water is pouring down over both of them, but Stefano still shivers and presses into his hand.

“It’s alright,” Sebastian murmurs. “I’ve got you.” He knows Stefano probably doesn’t need his reassurances, but Stefano has said the same thing to him so many times, has led him through so many difficult situations that it only seems fair to return the favor.

He wraps his hand around Stefano’s cock, stroking it slowly. It feels a little backwards compared to handling his own cock, but it’s not so difficult after all. The water makes everything deliciously easy and slick, and Stefano’s hands are gripping his shoulders, and Stefano’s hips are moving in time with his strokes.

Stefano’s head is resting on his shoulder, and Sebastian leans down to kiss his forehead as he keeps rubbing, letting Stefano’s cock slip through his fingers. His other hand travels down Stefano’s back almost of its own accord until his fingers are wrapped around Stefano’s ass. Stefano gasps and shudders against him, moving his legs apart a little bit.

Sebastian really doesn’t know what to do here, but he’s feeling a little reckless, and Stefano is clearly urging him onward, so he lets his fingers dip even lower, between Stefano’s buttocks and over a place that makes Stefano utter a little moan and press a kiss to his shoulder. Sebastian has a general idea of what he’s supposed to do here, but it seems impossible- or at least, it seems impossible to do without hurting Stefano- so he leaves off for the moment and focuses his attention on Stefano’s cock.

He remembers what Stefano did for him earlier, how amazing it felt, and he wants to make Stefano feel exactly like that, so he lowers himself to his knees. Having Stefano’s cock right in his face is a little intimidating, but Stefano’s hands are resting calmly on his head, and Stefano isn’t making any attempt to escalate things, just waiting patiently as Sebastian gathers his wits and brings his mouth to Stefano’s cock.

His first few licks are tentative, but Stefano’s cock tastes very much like the rest of Stefano, and the way Stefano sighs and runs his fingers through Sebastian’s hair is very pleasant, and before long Sebastian is taking the head of his cock into his mouth, exploring it with his tongue, memorizing the shape and texture. Stefano is making more noise now- moans and gasps and murmurs of encouragement- and as Sebastian tries to take him deeper and deeper, his hips are starting to make little involuntary thrusts.

Sebastian is starting to get hard himself just from listening to Stefano, but he’s much more focused on Stefano’s pleasure now than his own. He relaxes his mouth, taking in more of Stefano’s cock. He’s sure he’s not doing as good of a job as Stefano did to him earlier, but he is learning how to use his lips and tongue, how to target the sensitive places when he wants to excite Stefano and how to back off when he wants to slow things down.

He can tell things are getting serious when Stefano’s movements become jerkier, when he is gripping Sebastian’s hair a little harder than is probably polite, which Sebastian doesn’t mind at all. These little slip-ups, tiny signs that Stefano is losing control, only excite him more, and he redoubles his efforts, bobbing his head on Stefano’s cock. The fingers of one hand are wrapped around the base, providing some stimulation for an area that Sebastian can’t hope to reach with his mouth, and the fingers of his other hand travel farther back, between Stefano’s legs to the place Sebastian was teasing before.

“Yes, Sebastian,” Stefano murmurs as Sebastian’s finger traces over his opening.

Despite Stefano’s positive reaction, Sebastian is afraid to do much more than that, but he does let his finger circle there, pressing gently against Stefano’s opening as his mouth continues to work Stefano’s cock.

“I...I’m going to-” Stefano gasps out, fingers tightening in Sebastian’s hair.

Sebastian hasn’t given much thought to what he should do in this situation, but Stefano seemed to handle it well enough earlier, so he follows suit, taking Stefano into his mouth as deeply as he can. Stefano tenses against him, and he can feel the warm liquid of Stefano’s release on his tongue. It has a salty, slightly bitter taste, unlike anything he’s familiar with, but it’s not unpleasant, and he swallows it down, massaging Stefano’s cock with his tongue as Stefano trembles against him, hands holding his shoulders now.

When he’s sure Stefano is finished, he pulls back, letting Stefano’s cock slip out of his mouth and pressing a kiss to Stefano’s thigh. Stefano is leaning down, taking him by the arms, urging him to his feet, and Sebastian is more than happy to follow his lead, wrapping his arms around Stefano and holding him, kissing him, because this is what he’s been needing for so long. He has needed to feel Stefano’s body against his, Stefano’s arms around him, Stefano’s breath on his skin.

They simply stand like that for a few minutes, Stefano panting and shaking against him, until Stefano turns to kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you,” he says. “That was quite exceptional.”

Sebastian can feel his face flushing hot. “Umm...I’m glad. I don’t really know what I’m doing yet.”

“You are doing very well,” Stefano reassures him. “Now, perhaps you can help me wash up a little.”

Sebastian is all too eager to oblige.


	40. Masterpiece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter besides a short epilogue (and this chapter does contain explicit content). Thank you everyone for reading, and I hope you have enjoyed the story!

The rest of their shower passes in a haze of pleasant sensations for Stefano- not the building, aching pleasure of arousal and climax, but the softer, gentler feelings that follow Sebastian’s hands all over his body.

Sebastian touches him with reverence. Sebastian looks at him with reverence, and it takes him a few minutes of puzzling over it to realize that Sebastian looks at him the way Andre used to look at him- the way Andre used to look at him when he was still handsome, before the accident. Sebastian looks at him the way Stefano has been afraid no one will ever look at him again, and it makes him feel warm inside.

He spends some time washing Sebastian as well, though he will admit that he has already had quite a bit of time to memorize the lines of Sebastian’s body when he was unconscious in the storage room. Now of course, the context is quite different, and Sebastian is reacting to his touches, relaxing under his hands.

It still amazes him how someone like Sebastian, someone who has been so hurt and so lost, can place his trust in Stefano so quickly, but of course they have shared so much through their visit to Silent Hill that this is hardly a typical relationship. They know things about each other that even some well-established couples wouldn’t know, and in some ways it feels strange to think that Sebastian knows such deep, dark secrets about him, but for the most part, Stefano feels safe, comfortable.

There are still little prickles of excitement in his stomach at the idea of what he and Sebastian have done together and what they might do next, but he trusts Sebastian, and he is so relaxed and sleepy from the aftershocks of his orgasm that he can’t bring himself to be too concerned about anything at the moment.

He is so relaxed, in fact, that once they are done washing and he has shut the water off, he simply leans into Sebastian, closing his eyes and letting Sebastian support his weight as he enjoys the feeling of wet skin on wet skin.

Sebastian chuckles and wraps his arms around him. “You okay?” he asks. “Did I overdo it?”

Stefano shakes his head. “You did it perfectly,” he says. “Especially for your first time.”

“I like to think I’m a fast learner.” Sebastian’s voice is a low rumble in his ear. “But I’m glad you’re willing to teach me.”

Stefano smiles against Sebastian’s chest. “Well, I am hoping that beyond this point we can learn together.”

There is a brief pause before Sebastian says. “You’ve...you’ve done more than this before though, right? I mean you’ve….?”

“Yes,” Stefano says quickly. “I have done more than this, but I…” He takes a moment to choose his words. “I was not...with people who I felt very close to. It is a bit difficult to explain.”

“That’s alright,” Sebastian says, pressing his lips to Stefano’s temple. “Let’s get dried off and then we can talk some more. I’d like to know what you mean.”

He kisses Stefano again before Stefano steps away and draws back the shower curtain to get each of them a towel. He can tell he’s smiling as he dries himself off, and he can see the answering smile on Sebastian’s face.

There is a certain warmth in his chest. It’s a strange feeling, and one he hasn’t had since he was with Andre, but the comfortable affection he has with Sebastian, the way that he trusts Sebastian sets this apart from the other romantic encounters in his recent memory, and the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he may actually be able to explain this to Sebastian after all.

When they are both dry, and he has hung up the towels and led Sebastian to the bedroom, when they are both comfortably reclining on his bedspread, Stefano’s head pillowed on Sebastian’s chest, he attempts to explain again.

“I know you are new to being involved with men,” Stefano begins, “but sometimes we are not the best communicators.” He feels Sebastian nod his head. “And of course there are certain...expectations in most relationships…”

He fumbles with words for a moment, but Sebastian’s hand is on his back, rubbing up and down reassuringly, and he takes a deep breath and tries again. “I have certainly gone through the motions of this before,” he says, “but I hope that you and I can learn how to do it properly.”

Sebastian’s hand falters. “Was it...not good for you before?” he asks, and Stefano can hear that there is a bit of an edge to his voice, has to stifle a smile because he is sure Sebastian is already planning to exact some sort of painful revenge on whoever hurt him.

“It was...not enjoyable,” Stefano replies after some hesitation. “Nothing terrible,” he quickly adds, because he can feel Sebastian tense up underneath him, “but not what I think it is supposed to be like...or at least not what I hope it is supposed to be like.”

Sebastian gives him a little squeeze. “Sometimes it takes a little time to get it right,” he says. “I mean, I know it did for Myra and I- is it...does it bother you when I talk about Myra?”

“Not at all,” Stefano replies truthfully. It doesn’t bother him. He has no doubt of Sebastian’s interest in him, and of course Myra is part of Sebastian’s past and part of his life.

“Good,” Sebastian says, “because I’m not sure I can stop doing it. She’s in a lot of my stories.” Stefano smiles at that, and Sebastian continues. “I think you said it though- communication is really important, and I think we have that going for us.”

Stefano realizes he’s been unconsciously rubbing Sebastian’s chest and belly as they’ve been speaking, and his smile gets a little wider. “That is very true,” he says.

“Also I talk kind of a lot when I’m nervous,” Sebastian adds.

Stefano laughs, because of course this reminds him of when he was stitching up Sebastian’s arm in the hospital in Silent Hill. “I appreciate that,” he says, “though I am not always so expressive myself.”

“You’ll tell me if something’s wrong though, won’t you?” Sebastian asks. “I would never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“Of course I will,” Stefano says, turning his head to kiss Sebastian’s chest. He can already tell that Sebastian is going to take good care of him, and he hopes he will be able to take good care of Sebastian as well.

He props himself up on his elbow so that he can run his free hand over more of Sebastian’s body, and Sebastian stretches, pressing up into his hand almost like a cat being petted. His eyes are closed at the moment, and he looks so peaceful in the dim light of Stefano’s bedroom that it’s hard to believe he’s the same person Stefano discovered at the overlook with a gun to his head. Stefano much prefers this version of Sebastian.

Even as he has the thought, Sebastian’s eyes open, and he reaches out to take Stefano’s hand in his, bringing it to his mouth to place a kiss on the back. “Come here,” he murmurs.

Stefano can only look at him in amusement, because they’re already pressed up against each other, and he’s not sure how he can possibly get any closer.

Sebastian apparently has other ideas, because his face flushes bright red and he adds, “I meant, come and lie on top of me if you want. I want to feel more of you.”

Stefano does think this idea has some merit, and his suspicions are confirmed once he shifts over so that he is lying fully on Sebastian. For one thing, there is so much more of Sebastian’s bare skin pressed up against his, and for another, it’s quite easy to dip his head and kiss Sebastian on the mouth, which he does almost immediately.

One of Sebastian’s hands comes up to caress his cheek, and even though instinct tells him to turn away, to protect himself from the prying eyes and unkind words of those who have seen his face, he resists. Sebastian cares for him, Sebastian accepts him, and Sebastian is holding him as though he is the most precious thing in the world.

Sebastian’s mouth is hot and wet and draws him in, and Sebastian’s beard scratches his face a little, but he doesn’t mind at all, because Sebastian’s other hand is sweeping down his back, grabbing his ass and pulling him harder against Sebastian’s body, and Stefano realizes belatedly another advantage of their current configuration when he feels Sebastian’s cock pressing against his belly.

It’s a welcome, exciting pressure- the kind that promises so much more- and Stefano draws his breath in sharply and rolls his hips, grinding down against Sebastian in a way that makes Sebastian gasp in return. Their mouths break apart, and Stefano can hear that Sebastian is panting just as hard as he is as they continue to move against each other.

Both Sebastian’s hands are on his ass now, and his arms are wrapped around Sebastian’s shoulders as he continues to rub against Sebastian. His last climax left him quite drained, but it certainly doesn’t seem like he is going to have any trouble getting interested again. He can already feel his cock responding to their movements, pressed between his body and Sebastian’s.

Sebastian groans and thrusts up against him, fingers wrapped firmly around his buttocks, and Stefano feels a dizzying rush of lust as he appreciates Sebastian’s strength, Sebastian’s power, but also how tenderly he is handling him, and he does want Sebastian to handle him a lot more than this.

Almost as if he knows this, Sebastian’s fingers are dipping down between his buttocks, skimming over his opening, and even the suggestion, the idea of Sebastian being inside him is exciting, makes his breath come faster, and he lets his legs come open to rest on either side of Sebastian’s hips, giving Sebastian greater access to his body. They’re not going to make any headway in this position at this stage of the proceedings, but it is exquisite to feel Sebastian’s finger pressing lightly against him, stimulating such an intimate place with soft, gentle strokes.

“You’re going to have to tell me what to do next,” Sebastian says, his hand going still as he gives Stefano an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Stefano leans down to kiss him again. “You won’t,” he says. He leans over and manages to reach his nightstand and slide open the top drawer, where he still keeps a small bottle of lubricant. There have been precious few times when he’s needed to use it recently, but he’s very glad to have it at this moment. He also grabs a condom, which, if all goes well, they’ll be needing later.

He hands them to Sebastian, then rolls over so that they are lying side by side. Sebastian may want to be able to see what he’s doing after all. Right now though, he is looking quite lost.

“You have the right idea,” Stefano says encouragingly. “Just start slowly and use plenty of that.” He gestures at the bottle.

Sebastian nods. “Are you comfortable like that?” he asks Stefano.

Stefano smiles, because it is very like Sebastian to be worried about his comfort when he is clearly struggling himself. “Yes,” he says, “I am quite comfortable.”

Sebastian sits up, shifting so that he is seated by Stefano’s hip, and Stefano draws his legs up, feeling his face flush hot as Sebastian’s eyes travel down his body to his cock, his balls, and even lower.

“You’re beautiful,” Sebastian murmurs, and even though Stefano doesn’t agree with him, he’s not going to argue about that right now, because Sebastian’s hand is on his thigh, working its way to his cock, and after he’s climaxed so recently he can’t believe how much he wants to feel Sebastian’s touch there, but Sebastian’s hand is big and warm, palms his cock so perfectly that his eye is closing of his own accord, and he lets his head fall back onto the pillow, giving himself over to Sebastian’s hands.

Sebastian makes a loose fist, letting Stefano’s cock slide through his hand as Stefano rocks back and forth, hands braced against the mattress. It’s all very pleasurable of course, but it’s not what they’re supposed to be doing right now, and Stefano opens his eye, sure that he’s still blushing furiously as he looks at Sebastian.

“Sorry,” he says, “I suppose I got a little carried away.”

Sebastian’s hand is still wrapped around him. “Nothing to be sorry about,” he answers. “And nothing to be embarrassed about either. We can do this all night if you want.”

While Stefano is sure that Sebastian could make that very enjoyable, he does have some other rather specific ideas about what he’d like to do with Sebastian tonight, so he shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I want your fingers inside me. I want you inside me.”

Sebastian’s expression glazes over for a moment. “You have no idea how you look when you say those things,” he says, voice thick with lust. “I want all of that too, but I want to do it right.”

“And you will,” Stefano says with a reassuring smile. “But if you don’t do it soon I may be in danger of losing my mind.”

Sebastian laughs, but he lets go of Stefano’s cock and opens the bottle of lube. “If you insist,” he says, pouring some onto his fingers.

When those fingers brush the skin behind Stefano’s balls, they are slick and slightly cool, but so very welcome. Sebastian massages his opening slowly, moving in small circles, coaxing him open with gentle pressure.

“Is this okay?” Sebastian asks.

“Yes, that feels lovely,” Stefano replies.

As he speaks, he realizes that he can’t remember ever using that word to describe anything that happens in the bedroom, and for a moment, he believes that he truly can’t think of a previous sexual experience that has been anything like this. A moment later, he realizes that he can, that he does have such a time stored away in his memory, but it was so many years ago in the barracks with Andre that at times it feels like only a beautiful dream. He is ready to feel all of that again with Sebastian.

“Should I do...more?” Sebastian asks, and his voice holds equal parts excitement and trepidation.

“Yes,” Stefano breathes, still half-lost in hazy memories of Andre and half-consumed by lust and affection for Sebastian. “Please.”

Stefano is already feeling deliciously warm and relaxed, so all it takes is for him to lift his hips a little bit, for Sebastian to adjust his angle, and Sebastian’s finger is slipping inside him. He is sure he probably makes some sort of noise himself, but what he hears is Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath, what he feels is Sebastian- Sebastian’s hand on his thigh and Sebastian’s finger inside him.

It’s so easy, so natural that it surprises him a little at first. His previous experiences were certainly not all bad, and he does prefer a partner who takes their time to one who rushes this part, but with Sebastian this feels...comfortable, safe, and a little exciting, and instead of having to resist the urge to pull away, he finds himself pressing down against Sebastian’s finger, trying to take more of it into his body.

“Everything alright?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano almost replies a little sarcastically that Sebastian should probably be able to tell how much he is enjoying this just by looking at him, but of course Sebastian needs a gentle touch, needs encouragement and reassurance that what they are doing is mutually satisfying, so Stefano smiles at him.

“Very much so,” he says. “You’re doing so well.”

Sebastian practically beams, and Stefano can see that he’s beginning to blush again. Sebastian also must be feeling a little more confident, because his finger begins to move inside Stefano, still slow and gentle, but exploring the inside of his body, and the way Sebastian is looking at him, the way Sebastian is reading his reactions and adjusting his movements is sending little thrills of arousal all through him.

He’s not quite hard again, but the movements of Sebastian’s finger as it strokes his inner walls, the intensity of Sebastian’s gaze is quickly getting him there, and Sebastian is rubbing over a place inside him that is starting to feel better and better with each pass of his fingers. His breath is coming faster now, and his hands are fisted in the bedspread, and Sebastian must notice it too, because he is too focused, too intentional in his movements.

He is watching Stefano carefully, stimulating that perfectly sensitive place a little bit at a time, backing off when it gets to be too much, but always returning to it when Stefano is ready. Stefano isn’t sure that he’s ever had a lover as attentive as Sebastian. Andre was certainly very eager to please him, but they both had a difficult time relaxing when they were always in fear of being discovered.

“More?” Sebastian asks, and Stefano can only nod. His throat is tight with memories of Andre, with affection for Sebastian, and he is sure that even if he tried to speak, no sound would come out.

His eye is closed, and he is somehow both here and back in the barracks. Sebastian’s finger eases out of him, and he can feel more lubricant being applied before two of Sebastian’s fingers are teasing his opening.

He doesn’t realize how much his legs are trembling until Sebastian’s other hand takes the back of his thigh, lifts him slightly, adjusts their positions so that he is lying halfway in Sebastian’s lap, and Sebastian is guiding his legs to rest up on Sebastian’s shoulders.

“Is this better?” Sebastian asks, and again, Stefano can only nod, can only ache for Sebastian’s touch again, but Sebastian’s fingers find their way quickly back to their target, probing carefully at his entrance as Sebastian’s other hand supports his lower back. It’s a bit of a strange position, and Stefano is sure that if he opened his eye now he would probably find it rather embarrassing, but it gives Sebastian such easy access to his body that he is certainly not going to complain.

When Sebastian’s fingers breach him this time, he does have to think about his breathing, has to consciously urge himself to relax, because somehow Sebastian’s two fingers feel so much bigger than just one, and even though they are gentle and slick, Stefano has to concentrate to allow them in. Sebastian is moving slowly, advancing a little bit at a time, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the rim of Stefano’s opening. He’s speaking as well, Stefano realizes, and maybe he has been for a while, but it’s nothing substantial, just slow, steady, comforting words, and by the time he reaches that sensitive place again, Stefano is ready for more.

He lets out a long, slow breath and concentrates on the easy slide of Sebastian’s fingers inside him, the little ripples of pleasure that are spreading through him as he continues to explore. It almost comes as a surprise to realize that his cock is fully hard now, lying heavy on his belly and aching for some attention.

Sebastian seems to have his hands full, so Stefano forces his fingers to unclench from the bedspread and takes himself in hand, stroking slowly to match Sebastian’s movements. He doesn’t want to escalate things too fast, wants to enjoy this time with Sebastian, but he can feel the pressure building, knows what the inevitable result of all of this stimulation will be, and he wants Sebastian to be inside him when that happens.

He arches his back, presses down on Sebastian’s fingers, forcing them harder against that place that feels so perfect right now, and the pleasure is so intense that he is shaking, squeezing his cock to hold off his own climax.

“Sebastian,” he pants, finding his voice again in his desperation. “Sebastian, please. I want...I need…”

Thankfully Sebastian doesn’t ask him to be more specific about what he wants, because Stefano is still having some trouble forming words.

“Are you sure?” Sebastian asks. “I mean, was that enough preparation? I could-”

“Yes,” Stefano answers emphatically. “Yes, I am ready.”

“Okay,” Sebastian says, letting his fingers slip out of Stefano. The nervous undertone is back in his voice, and Stefano opens his eye and gives him a reassuring smile.

“Everything will be fine,” he says. “Just go slowly and carefully, the way you have been doing, and everything will be fine.”

Sebastian nods, and it isn’t until he picks up the condom from beside him on the bed that Stefano remembers Sebastian may need a little inspiration to get ready for this. He lets go of his own cock and gestures at Sebastian’s.

“Is there perhaps something I can do for you?” he asks, taking care to make his voice a little sultry.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Sebastian says, looking slightly embarrassed that he has needs of his own, which, like most things Sebastian does, is oddly endearing. He scoots back a little, giving Stefano room to maneuver.

As comfortable as Stefano is in his current position, he is also eager to get his hands on Sebastian again. He sits up, fighting off a wave of dizziness that is probably explained by how much of his blood is currently rushing out of his head and to other areas of his body, and leans in toward Sebastian, who has settled back on his elbows so that he’s half reclining on the bed.

Stefano wastes no time, kissing his way down Sebastian’s chest and belly, nipping lightly at his inner thighs so that Sebastian draws in his breath sharply. As Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind him using his teeth a little, Stefano tries again, biting down harder this time.

“Fuck,” groans Sebastian, but he way he arches up off the bed tells Stefano that he’s not complaining at all.

Stefano continues to lick and suck and nip his way back to Sebastian’s cock, and even though he is breathing hard and clearly welcoming the attention, Sebastian manages to gasp, “You know, you don’t have to-”

Stefano doesn’t even dignify this with a response, because they’ve covered it already, and he thinks he is making his desires quite clear when he takes the head of Sebastian’s cock into his mouth. That does seem to quiet Sebastian for a moment, and while Stefano continues to work him over, the only sounds in his ears are Sebastian’s breathing and the lovely wet noises he is making with his own mouth.

Sebastian’s cock is a thing of beauty in itself, and Stefano makes it his business to learn every inch of it. If his efforts also serve to excite Sebastian...that is a not-entirely-unintended side effect. He experiments a bit, bathing Sebastian’s cock with his tongue, sucking the head of it firmly, and drawing it deeply into his mouth, though Sebastian seems to be equally thrilled by whatever he is doing at the moment.

When Sebastian is hard and heavy against his tongue, when Sebastian’s chest is heaving and every little move or exploration he makes has Sebastian moaning into his own hand- which Sebastian has inexplicably clapped over his mouth- Stefano lifts his head, releasing Sebastian’s cock and fixing him with a serious look.

“You know, I really do enjoy the sounds you make,” he says. “There is no need to try to be quiet.”

Sebastian takes his hand off of his mouth, looking as though he may not have covered it on purpose. “Sorry,” he says. “I was trying to make sure I didn’t say anything stupid.”

Stefano sits up and leans in to kiss him.

“I do not think you need to concern yourself with that,” Stefano says. “But you do need to take my word for it when I say that I want you, that I want to be with you.”

Sebastian nods. “I know,” he says.

“Then please,” Stefano says, “be with me.”

He kisses Sebastian one more time, then lies back onto the bed. His head is resting on one pillow, and he tucks another underneath his hips so that Sebastian can have a proper angle for this.

Sebastian puts the condom on and applies a little more lube, and when he makes eye contact with Stefano the look on his face tells Stefano he is about to overthink this. Stefano holds out his hand.

“Come, Sebastian,” he says. “Do not think. Just come here so you can feel me. Let me feel you.”

Sebastian scoots closer and leans in over him, supporting himself on his hands. Stefano can feel Sebastian’s cock nudging at the back of his thigh, but Sebastian’s mouth is on his, and for a moment all he can focus on is Sebastian’s lips against his, Sebastian’s arms around him.

It’s setting off little flutters of arousal all over his body, but he wants more, wants to feel the way he felt a few minutes ago when Sebastian was pleasuring him with his fingers, and he draws his legs up and reaches down to take Sebastian’s cock in his hand, to bring Sebastian’s cock to his opening.

Sebastian tenses at first and starts to pull away, but Stefano’s other hand is on his back, and Stefano is whispering to him.

“It’s alright Sebastian,” he says. “You know how much I want this, how much you want this. Stay with me, and we are going to make each other feel so good.”

Sebastian heaves a sigh and lets his forehead come to rest against Stefano’s. He’s still supporting himself on his forearms and knees, but he lets Stefano guide him, lets his hips follow Stefano’s hand so that the head of his cock is pressing up against Stefano’s opening.

It feels big, so much bigger than Sebastian’s fingers did before, and Stefano isn’t sure how he’s going to take something like this, how he’s ever managed to take something like this, but Sebastian is kissing his cheek, and Sebastian’s hand is on the side of his face, and now Sebastian’s voice is in his ear.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. “We can do this.”

The way he says ‘we’, the thought of him and Sebastian as partners in the bedroom as well as the streets of Silent Hill fills him with such a rush of warmth and affection for Sebastian that he almost loses track of what he’s doing. He wants to join with Sebastian though, wants to feel connected to him in every way, so he takes a deep breath and eases Sebastian’s cock forward.

There’s a little resistance at first, and Sebastian is following his lead but not exerting much force himself, so the end result is that Sebastian’s cock is rubbing up against him, teasing him much the way Sebastian did with his fingers earlier, and Stefano guides him forward, increasing the pressure little by little until Sebastian begins to ease inside him.

It’s still a tight fit, and he can hear Sebastian panting in his ear, can feel Sebastian’s muscles trembling against him as he resists the urge to push forward.

“Stefano,” Sebastian growls. “Fuck, Stefano, that feels-”

Stefano guides him forward a little more, feeling his own body relax as he adjusts to Sebastian’s size, as the discomfort of the initial penetration gives way to the warm, tingly feeling of being so deliciously stretched open around Sebastian’s cock, and he wants to feel Sebastian even more, to take him even deeper.

He releases Sebastian’s cock and grabs his ass, trying to pull him closer, to get him to finish what he has started.

“Easy,” Sebastian says, stroking his cheek as he starts a tantalizingly slow push forward.

Stefano huffs in frustration, but Sebastian does keep pressing into him, does enter him fully so that they are perfectly joined together, Sebastian buried so far inside him that the deep, pleasurable ache of being so thoroughly claimed takes his breath away.

Sebastian pauses there for a moment, his weight resting on Stefano, and Stefano wraps his arms around him, holding them tightly together, savoring the feeling of every inch of Sebastian’s body. After a few moments, a few long slow breaths, he checks in with Sebastian.

“Are you alright?”

“Much better than alright,” Sebastian replies, turning to kiss his cheek, then his mouth. “You?”

“Thoroughly enjoying myself,” Stefano says, “though I would appreciate it if you would move a bit.”

“Oh, is that what I’m supposed to be doing?” Sebastian asks, his tone playfully sarcastic. He kisses Stefano again, and his voice is more serious. “Just let me know if it’s not feeling good, okay?”

Stefano runs a hand up and down his back. “Of course,” he says, quite confident that everything Sebastian is about to do to him is going to feel very good indeed.

Sebastian shifts his weight back onto his knees and forearms and slowly draws himself out of Stefano before pressing back in. He’s still moving rather cautiously, but the pressure deep inside him, the way Sebastian is spreading him open from the inside still feels incredible, and he is clinging to Sebastian, desperate for more.

Sebastian obliges of course, his thrusts gaining confidence and strength as Stefano makes his pleasure known through gasps and moans. Stefano isn’t sure how much coaching Sebastian is going to need on his first time, but Sebastian turns out to be quite intuitive, switching between deep powerful thrusts and slower, lazier ones, and sometimes taking some time to just hold Stefano’s body against his, rocking them back and forth so that his cock is rubbing over that wonderful, sensitive place inside him, and Stefano is practically incoherent with pleasure.

After several very enjoyable minutes of exploring what sorts of things he can do to Stefano in their current position, Sebastian sits up, taking hold of Stefano’s legs so that he can adjust the depth and angle of his thrusts better, and Stefano’s hands are digging into the bedspread again as he moans Sebastian’s name.

Sebastian’s hands are everywhere, tugging at his nipples, stroking his cock and balls, running up and down his thighs, grabbing his ass to pull them harder against each other, and Stefano’s head is spinning in the best kind of way. He is lost again, drifting somewhere between his memories and the onslaught of sensations rushing through his body, but he is anchored to Sebastian, he has been found by Sebastian, and the way Sebastian is holding him tells him that he is not going to have to worry about being truly lost ever again.

He can’t put his thoughts into words, can’t express his feelings, but he can arch his back and grab Sebastian’s hand and sob out, “Sebastian,” just before he climaxes, his pleasure reaching a crescendo and a great rushing noise filling his ears as his vision goes white and he spends himself across his stomach and chest. He can feel Sebastian thrust a few more times before he goes rigid, then collapses onto him.

Stefano’s mind is drifting, even though his body is quite pleasantly weighted down by Sebastian. Sometimes when his mind wanders he visits the barracks or the battlefield or his childhood home, but now he is in none of those places. He is simply here, in his bed, warm and safe and surrounded by the smell of Sebastian, and it is Sebastian’s voice that brings him back to reality.

“Stefano?”

“Hmmm?” He opens his eye to see Sebastian’s face, just in time for Sebastian to lean in for a kiss. This one is slow and sweet, and made even more pleasant by Sebastian’s weight resting on him, even if there are some fluids sandwiched between them.

“Thank you,” Sebastian murmurs in his ear once the kiss ends.

Stefano is about to tell Sebastian that he doesn’t need to thank him at all when Sebastian speaks again.

“Not just for that. I mean, that was amazing, but thank you for...thank you for stopping me the other night.” He pulls back a little so that can gaze into Stefano’s face. “You saved me...in so many ways, and I’m not sure I can ever-”

“Shhh,” Stefano whispers, pulling him in close again, because Sebastian looks like he is close to tears. “Sebastian, we saved each other.”

Sebastian doesn’t argue, just holds him close and kisses him again. He is in Sebastian’s arms, and even if the dark memories are still there, they are no longer in control of him. He and Sebastian are free, and they have each other, and they are going to make so many new memories far away from their old lives and far away from Silent Hill.


	41. Epilogue

Sebastian frowns.

The highway is familiar, but the sign is not.

_ Scenic Overlook- 1 Mile _

He glances over at Stefano, and when they lock eyes, he knows Stefano has seen it too.

There shouldn’t be anything troubling about it. There’s nothing inherently sinister about an overlook, but he knows they are both thinking the same thing, that Stefano must also be feeling the knot of tension that is forming in his stomach.

Stefano turns his attention back to the road, but Sebastian watches the scenery flying by, sees the sign for the overlook itself in the distance.

There’s something Stefano doesn’t know, something he probably should have told Stefano. He’s tried to work up the nerve many times over the past week, but there always seems to be some reason not to, something to focus on to distract him from a conversation he doesn’t want to have.

He loves Stefano truly and deeply, the way he loved Myra and Lily, and probably Joseph as well, and he never wants to see Stefano unhappy. They have both fought so hard to leave their past behind them, and they have come so far that Sebastian’s heart sinks if he even tries to imagine the look on Stefano’s face if Sebastian told him about the unmarked envelope that appeared in their mailbox last week- the envelope that contained nothing but two photographs: one of Diego lying in a darkened room, eyes shining bright in the flash of the camera, and one of Lady Justice crying tears of blood.

He doesn’t know what they mean of course, but he has a gnawing feeling that Silent Hill may not be finished with them, and his heart starts to pound as the sign for the overlook draws closer. He can see now that it’s not just any overlook either. It’s one they both know all too well.

Stefano looks over at him, eye wide.

“Should we…?”

“No,” Sebastian says firmly. “Never again.”

He may have willingly made that turn once, but he is not the same man he was that night. If Silent Hill wants them back, it will have to try harder.

Stefano steps on the gas, and they fly by the overlook parking lot. Sebastian doesn’t realize how much his hand is shaking until Stefano reaches out and takes it in his.

The highway stretches out ahead of them, long and bright and filled with the prospects of their new life together. There is a difficult conversation ahead of them, and Sebastian knows they will have to have it sooner or later, but for the moment his pulse is slowing down again, and his fear is fading away.

The summer air is warm, and his heart feels warm inside his chest now, and Stefano’s hand is warm in his. He does not know what lies ahead, but he knows he wants to be there to see it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! This story has been quite a journey, and I have appreciated all of the views, kudos, and comments so much. I know there's a little bit of a stinger at the end of this one, but please rest assured that our boys are going to take care of each other, even if there might be some difficult times ahead.
> 
> As for future writing projects, I'm taking a little break from posting stories to work on a piece or two for a zine, but I've had some requests for another set of prompts (like Promptober 2019), so I may do something like that in March or April. If you want to be involved, check me out on Tumblr- DetectiveSebCas as that's where I'd be posting the announcement. No firm ideas for another longfic yet, but we'll see what the future holds. Once again, thank you for all of your support! <3


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